


Bonded in Silence

by Kitzzo



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Other, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:02:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 42
Words: 187,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27214615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitzzo/pseuds/Kitzzo
Summary: Months after the incident, Estelle Dreever aims to put the past behind her and move on with her life as the invisible nobody she wishes to be, but her plans are quickly disrupted when she finds herself sharing homeroom with a terribly polite and inviting group of people she has no interest associating with at first, for her own self preservation. Against her better judgment, she finds herself tolerating the group, figuring that sticking to the ones in charge of her new school is better than standing against them.The silent guy with hazel eyes is kind enough, she suppose.A slow-burn romance with a lot of sensitive themes and subjects, read with caution if this disturbs you.I might have gone overboard with the warnings, but I just want to be safe about things, because there are mentions of non consensual things and I'm not sure how the rating works with that.
Relationships: Amren/Varian (ACoTaR), Azriel (ACoTaR)/Original Female Character(s), Elain Archeron & Lucien Vanserra, Feyre Archeron/Rhysand, Nesta Archeron/Cassian
Comments: 41
Kudos: 130





	1. First days

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first posted fan-fic and I know it isn't perfect, mainly because English isn't my first language, but I hope you can find some semblance of enjoyment out of this dumpster fire, I sure enjoy writing it.  
> The acotar world needs more Azriel, is all I'm saying.

The café is especially busy today, littered with college students getting one last moment of freedom before winter brake ends and the new semester begins. Many are sat alone at their computers, finishing wherever assignments they were given over the holidays, some just enjoying pastries with their friends, perhaps only here on visitation before heading off to some other college far far away.

The sheer amount is unnerving as I make my way about the establishment, cleaning off the tables, sweeping the floor from possible dirt; just maintaining the appeal of the place. I have no right to complain though, the better the café does, the more pay I might get at some point, and with the hours I am to work when said semester starts, I really need it.

There is one particular group of people at one of the larger tables, a group of eight, three of which guys and five of them girls, all having a great time. The loudest of them all in here, actually. One of the girls look like they’d rather be anywhere else, but she smiles every now and then, be it faintly.

I try not to stare, but a part of me finds their dynamic as a group interesting. They seem to be of varying ages, some look like siblings, some don’t, some act like it, some act like friends or something more. I can’t quite place them, but one catches my eye as I make another round to clear the tables.

One of the guys — the quiet one deduced by the fact that I’ve seen his mouth move around twice, and have no clue what he sounds like over the constant chatter of everyone around him—seems to watch the room more so than engage in conversation, seems to study every face in the room much like I do, and has a set of black leather gloves he seems to refuse to part from. Considering it’s winter I shouldn’t question it, but it is also very warm in here, and no one else is bothering to wear outdoor clothing.

His eyes flick my way for a second, and I know my studying has lingered too long and get on with my work, retreating to the back of the establishment to help with the dishes and sorting out the displays, just to keep away from his rather observant eyes, ones I still feel in the back of my neck every now and then as I go about my tasks.

Õ

I go through my new schedule with my boss one last time before retiring for the day, an hour of overtime to my name because I honestly have nothing better to do and today was particularly busy.

The walk home is long and cold, the winter wind chilly despite my thick wool scarf and heavy coat and boots. Winter-wear has been the one thing I have allowed myself to spend money on, knowing Prythian’s weather is much colder than both Hybern and Cretea, as they are cities situated more south. But even despite the elk-skin mittens I bought at an outdoors shop for the _outlandish_ price of 90 Sovereigns, my fingers feel like icicles.

But the walk home is one I gladly take, even if it’s long, treacherous, and a little uncomfortable during dusk, one smart to stick to the lit-up paths rather than the faster alleys, something I hold to even if the cold is terrible.

Being stupid hasn’t gotten me this far, but I suppose it wasn’t brains that got me here in the first place either.

I feel like walking ice when I finally reach my apartment complex, the stairs my last obstacle before the warmth of my home will thaw me out. Even with my frozen limbs, I power through the five sets of stairs and fumble with my keys for a moment before finally stepping inside, making sure to get most of the snow off of my clothes before hanging them up on the wall-mounted, homemade clothing-rack and discarding my shoes on the lanky wooden shoe-rack I found at a thrift shop when I first moved in.

Turning on the lights is a waste, at least in the hallway, the restroom my main destination, a shower inbound. The low energy lamp takes ages to illuminate the restroom, but by the time I’m in the decently hot shower—not desperate enough to pull from the steaming hot water—I can see without issue.

Considering tomorrow is the big day, I actually deign to use conditioner along with my shampoo, a real luxury if I do say so myself, and after wrapping myself in a set of towels to air-dry a little, I go to the mirror and decide to fix my eyebrows just a tad.

The brown brows are a real contrast to the platinum blonde of my hair, so are my darker lashes, and I know what everyone’s first thoughts are going to be tomorrow.

I don’t dye it, I don’t have the money for such nonsense, it’s just that the pigment in my hair is overly sensitive to light and bleaches very easily. This however only applies to long term exposure, so my lashes and eyebrows are spared, the hairs replaced often enough to not bleach further than a lighter brown. In turn, my hair becomes a natural blonde, though lighter at the tips than my roots, the cause of all the gossip regarding the bleaching. I don't have the strength to care all that much.

Finishing my sprucing with the slightest layer of facial cream, the winter weather a pain on my skin, I deem myself done and discard the towels and retreat into my robe, careful to hang up my towels to dry before moving on to the kitchen, extra careful to turn off the light after myself.

Still relatively full from my lunch sandwich at work, I get myself a glass of water and move to the kitchen table, where all my books and notebooks I’ll need tomorrow lay organized and ready, along with all the papers regarding my schedule and designated homeroom and all that fun stuff.

I take a glance through that last paper, noting that The Night Court is my homeroom. I find this court system a little strange, but apparently, something they do in the city high-school as well, and transfers over to college just to maintain relations, which I suppose is nice.

The uniform I had to buy was fine enough, not too expensive either, and fairly comfortable. Its best feature is definitely the longer sleeves to the black blouse, but the skirt, even if at a reasonable length, will annoy me, I’m sure, despite the black leggings beneath.

I sort everything out and get it all into my shoulder-bag, then decide that sleep is my best friend and go to get ready for just that.

Before allowing my tired head to rest atop that hard but comfortable pillow, I make sure my uniform is in order, that my phone is charged enough to last tonight and most of tomorrow, that the power bank is where it should in my bag, and that my alarm is set at 06:30, from there I finally let myself sleep.

Despite my nerves, exhaustion gets the better of me, and sleep claims me quickly.

Õ

The familiar sound of my alarm awakens me with ease, and I rise from my bed in but a moment, shutting off that terrible sound before it breaks my eardrums by its increasing volume. From there, I pull on my robe and go to the bathroom to freshen up, no need for a shower considering I took one last night. Thereafter I go to the kitchen and make myself a simple toast with butter and treat myself to some milk, a fast and easy breakfast.

By the time I’m done eating, the clock’s 06:52, leaving me 20 minutes to get ready before the bus leaves, so I don’t waste said minutes and instead get myself into the uniform, then sort my hair into a simple braid down my back just to say I did something with it. Then I get myself stuffed into my outdoor-wear and settle my bag over my right shoulder, taking one last stroll through my apartment to make sure nothing unnecessary is running before heading out the door and locking it behind me, rushing down the fleets of stairs and out into the cold morning.

I reach the bus stop about five minutes early, just as I expected, and from there it’s just to wait for said bus to arrive, and to pray my bus card I bought from the college works when it does, otherwise it was a waste of valuable money.

Thank the Mother, the card works as I step on, and the bus driver greets me with a nod, one I return before moving towards an empty seat in this rather crowded bus.

I find one beside an old lady, one whom I greet with a tired smile, and mercifully, she lets me be because of it, inclined to let me rest for the ten minute ride to school rather than speak. Most of the other people on the bus are students from either the High-school or College, and not to any surprise on my part, I recognize none of them. In fact, based on their looks alone, I’d say most are just High-schoolers, those too young to drive or too broke to afford a car yet, the latter is the department I fit into, just that I’m 21 and a sophomore in College.

Indeed, when we reach Prythian High Fae about ninety percent of the buss’ residents leave, and by the time we reach Prythian High Lord—such splendid naming—only me, the lady and a few others are on the bus.

I step off the bus and take a moment to take in the large complex, spreading far and wide across the lot, a clear entrance just up the stairs before me. I find the reception and get my locker number and key, as well as my school computer and map of the complex, and from there I’m on my own. I do my very best not to acknowledge the pity in the receptionist’s eyes as they realize who I am before I fully leave to fend for myself.

With the help of the map, I easily make my way to my locker and stuff my stuffy warm clothes into the decently sized locker, but decide to keep my bag with me as I securely close it behind me and head for what I assume is my homeroom, named NC on the map.

In the silent corridor, almost completely void of anyone due to the 30 minutes remaining before school begins, only my faint footsteps can be heard, my locker key safely tucked into a pocket to keep quiet.

Usually, silence would feel eerie and unnerving, but this place is a new start, a new beginning. No one knows who I am, and no one _will_ know who I am, not truly, it’s best that way. Not that I think anyone will _care,_ considering my track record of people giving a shit in my life.

When I reach my homeroom—the sign Night Court clear above said door, written in navy blue letters, lined in silver on a black background, speckled with stars, and a mountain peaked by three particularly clear ones—I am surprised to find a person seated inside, delved deep into a book of some sort, but the slight shift to his head lets me know he is aware of my presence.

I take a seat in the far back, pulling out my sketchbook and pencil to pass the time before the teacher arrives to hold initiation homeroom before the real classes start, and the mystery man a few rows ahead of me remains silent as death along with me.

It is a little strange, mainly because I swear I’ve seen him before from the little I can glimpse of him from here, his back giving me little in terms of appearance, but as his hand moves to turn the page, and I spot a gloved hand, recollection sparks in my mind. Unsure what to do with said information, I decide to just keep sketching that mountain motif I saw on the sign above the door, and see speckled around on the walls, the sigil of the Night Court, I’m sure. Lost in my drawing, I almost jump when the door is flung open and a chatter of voices emerges from it, the walls incredibly soundproof it seems.

At first I don’t think they’ll notice me, all of them passing to go to the silent one before me, lost in their talking, and it’s by then I start to realize they’re the group I saw in the café, all of them, actually. The one to notice me first is the one with eyes such a deep blue they almost appear violet, his seemingly permanent smirk softening into what I read as curiosity for the brief moment our eyes lock before I look back down at my art.

“We have a newbie” His clear tone cuts through all the rest, and the room goes silent, all eyes going to me, making my skin crawl, my legs aching to get away from the situation.

The golden one—as there is no other way to describe her simply radiant complexion, with golden skin, golden hair, and kind brown eyes—looks right at me, her face spreading into excitement and joy.

“By the cauldron! I had no idea we were getting a new member!” She exclaims, looking inclined to head my way, but a small, dark haired and silver eyed woman with every accessory possible grabs her arm and stops her, hissing something like _don’t scare her off._

The talking resumes in the group, but I spot their eyes going to me every so often, and the violet eyed guy eventually decides to approach me. My body tenses up, but I force my face to remain calm and uncaring as he stops one desk before me, leaning an arm against it.

“Name’s Rhysand, one might say I rule this Court, and I should warn you, that seat belongs to someone not too keen on sharing or compromising, so you’d better move on up if you want to survive this first day” I stare at him blankly, processing his words.

Are any schools in this world normal?

“That one, right there behind Cassian, the bulky brute of an idiot” Rhysand points to the seat said brute sits, looking openly offended. “Is free, you’d be safer there than here, I assure you” I look between that seat and the desk I’m currently sat at, and while every fiber of my being screams at me to keep as far away from people as possible, I make a decision, one I feel is the best for my survival, if Rhysand is to be believed.

Siding with the ruler of the Court might be smarter than being against him.

I gather my sketchbook and pencil and rise, Rhysand moving away from the desk to follow me to the front, and he seamlessly falls into the conversation, sliding an arm around one of the girls in the group as I sit myself down behind this Cassian. Said Cassian proceeds to turn in his seat and flash me a cocky grin.

“Name’s Cassian, and I am, in fact, not an idiot”

“Don’t lie to yourself Cassian, you’re way beyond an idiot” One of the girls says, one with very similar features to the one in Rhysand’s arms, but with a much harsher exterior and somehow even more beautiful appearance wise.

Cassian whirls and glares at said girl, while the short, dark haired one smirks at the exchange between the two, the golden one chatting with Rhysand and the other girl while this all takes place, the last girl watching with a shy look on her sweet face, and the gloved guy silently observing it all much like he did at the café.

“Anyways” Cassian continues, looking back at me. “This is the better half of the Night Court. We’ll act like monsters to keep the real ones in check, but if you’re not one of said monsters you’ll see the real side of us more often than not” He smiles a genuine compassionate and almost apologetic smile my way.

“Don’t reveal our darkest secrets _immediately_ Cass, would you?” The golden one comments with a smile on her lips. Cassian looks to her.

“Common Mor, she needs some sort of warning” Mor—apparently her name—sighs and looks to me with a bright smile.

“Introductions then. I’m Morrigan” She motions at herself. “This is Feyre” She motions at the girl beside Rhysand. “You already know Rhysand. This is Amren” She motions at the short woman beside her. “That’s-”

“Nesta” She interrupts, her piercing steely gray-blue eyes meeting mine, and Morrigan looks just a tad uncomfortable about her harshness, but I only nod at her in acknowledgment.

“That’s Elain” She points to the shy one, and she smiles such a sweet and innocent smile my way, brown eyes sparkling. “And Cass has already cursed you with his horrible presence” Cass flips her off, at which she laughs. “And that’s Azriel” She points to glove man, his book now closed and discarded somewhere I did not catch in the chaos. “Now, what’s your name” I stare at her for a moment, feeling every expecting glance in my direction, feel how my skin begins to prickle, legs screaming at me to run.

I will not speak, if I do not speak they’ll leave me be, find me weird and leave me alone, or do the same as they did in Hybern. Being different either repels attention or attracts the wrong kind. But to speak again… No… Not after what happened. I will not speak again.

So I sign my name, knowing they won’t understand.

Realization spreads across some faces, confusion for some, but none seem repelled or disgusted. Not like in Hybern.

“You can’t speak” Rhysand states more than asks, and I nod faintly. I notice Azriel’s eyes set more closely on me now, and I dare meet his gaze for just a moment again, finding the hazel an almost amber up close.

Then he signs back, the motions swift and fluent.

 _Hi Estelle._ I watch him with only slightly widened eyes for a moment before I remember to school my features into indifference and sign back.

 _Hello Azriel._ Everyone in the room with us watches the exchange curiously, none radiating a hostile aura, but still a little irking to me.

 _Can I tell them your name?_ He signs, and I’m surprised he even asks beforehand, but appreciate the gesture. I give him a simple nod in answer.

“Her name’s Estelle” Azriel’s voice comes out smooth and even, deep but not as deep as Cassian’s.

“Well, Estelle” Rhysand steps forward. “As Cassian said, we play monsters to keep the real ones in check, but don’t be scared to approach any of us if you’re lost or need help in any way” Unsure what to say, unsure if I should accept such generosity without question, I only nod to show him I understand, and he deems it enough.

Õ

My first class is two hours of creative writing, a rather relaxing way to begin the day, even though I mostly spend the first period fleshing out the larger story they want us to write before summer, all while observing the dynamic of the class and everyone involved.

Few take this particular course, but it looks like there are some from every court.

Green and gold seems to symbolize Spring, red and gold Autumn, white and light blue Winter, blue and gold Summer, gold and baby pink Dawn, white and gold Day, and lastly black and silver Night. It makes it easy to see who are court-mates and who aren’t, and from what I can tell, no Night Court students but me attend creative writing. It seems to be mainly inhabited by Day Court students, actually.

They don’t talk to me, actually seem to avoid me, and honestly, I’d rather have them avoid me than bombard me with words as those I met in homeroom. But to be fair, they seemed nice and genuine, but there is this part of me I don’t think will ever not be wary of people, of their intentions. Thus, I’m rather alone.

I have math after, and this time Morrigan and Elain are there too, and they do not grant me the distance my other class did, Mor sitting beside me, Elain beside her, though both mercifully not saying a thing while the teacher goes through everything, probably seeing how focused I am with writing everything he’s writing on the board down in my separate notebook for just that.

I’ve missed some, but not enough, and when the ninety minute course is done and sorted, I write a note for the teacher to tell me what sections of the book they’ve gone through last semester so I can see where I am lacking. He gladly obliges.

It takes a while, and I expect Morrigan and Elain to be gone by the time I’ve got all my notes sorted, but when I step out of that classroom the former is stood by the wall, picking idly at her red painted nails. Her face lights up as she spots me, and she walks up to me. I try my best to remain calm as she falls into step beside me.

“Wow, I’ve only seen Azriel _that_ focused in a course before, you’re really serious about your studies, huh” I nod lightly her way. “What’s next on your schedule after lunch?”

Of course, that’s why she’s waiting. I hadn’t even thought about where I’d sit during lunch, and while I’d much rather grab my food and hide in some corner of this school, I don’t think you’re allowed to leave the lunch hall with your food, so sitting with this group might be better than alone with complete strangers I’ve never spoken to.

I pull out my schedule and let Morrigan lead the way to the lunch hall while I assess my next course.

Ninety minutes of English starting 12:50, which leaves me with about 40 minutes of lunch, and I show her as much.

“Ah! We have the same there as well! That’s awesome!” Her enthusiasm is at least a little flattering. “But then you have… is that music? Huh, cool, I’ve got interior design then, so guess you’re on your own” She sounds disappointed, but not surprised. “Oh? You’ve got art-class too? Feyre’s going to be ecstatic! I think it’s the same course as hers at least” Suddenly we’re at the entrance of a large hall filled with people, and Morrigan walks into it like a path is carved for her.

I stuff my schedule into my bag again and follow her, because a path quite literary parts for her like she’s the queen of this damn school, or the people around us are just too scared to get near her, as some of them eye me with caution, worry and fear.

Monsters to keep the real ones in check, I see.

She guides me through the long line and helps me through the mess of people to a large table tucked against one of the large windows, some of the group I met in homeroom there, but none of the less friendly ones sit at that table, which I find to be a relief, and the shy one, Elain, smiles at me as she spots us coming towards the table.

“Would you look at that, the newbie’s made it to lunch” Rhysand practically purrs with a schooled swagger I assume is part of the mask he wears as a monster, and Feyre seems to be wearing a similar mask where she’s tucked into his side, not as a trophy for Rhysand to flaunt, but his queen if he were the king.

“All because of me, of course” Morrigan chirps and sits down at what seems to be designated seating, and I remain stood there, dumbfound for a moment, before Feyre notices and graces me with her help, motioning at the seat beside Elain, and I silently comply.

“Where’s the other brutes?” Mor asks, digging into her mashed potatoes as she waits for an answer.

“On their way” Rhys answers, looking at something on his phone, a phone I note is worth more than my monthly salary.

“Nesta and Amren ditched lunch for the library” Feyre adds, eating idly at her food, and I silently listen to the exchange as I do the same.

“Who would have thought, Cassian will be _heartbroken_ ” Mor grins, but there is the slightest edge to her tone, one the others at the table don’t seem to notice, or choose not to.

“You know how it is, Amren’s graduating this year and Nesta enjoys her company more than any of _ours_ ” Rhysand adds, and said edge is there too, but this time Feyre gives him a slight jab to the side, probably to tell him to be nice.

“My sister can surround herself with whoever she wants, Rhys, she doesn’t have to _always_ be around us all” Rhysand sighs.

“Sorry darling” He mumbles, planting a soft kiss to her forehead.

“How did math go? I noticed you stayed after class” Elain’s sweet and silent voice says to my left, and I look her way, unsure how to answer that. Her cheeks dust pink as she seems to realize her mistake, and a hand of hers soon reaches up to cover her mouth. “Oh Mother I’m sorry, I forgot” I wave her concern off with a lose hand and deign to look a little more pleasant, just to not be the cause of her discomfort.

I may not trust these people, but I will not make them my enemies, and this Elain seems too sweet for this world.

“I guess… You can nod if it went well?” She puts down her hand and smiles at me, and I nod at her in answer, at which her smile only grows. “That’s good, I can imagine it’s hard to get into a course in the middle of a term like this. I’m not the best, but if you need any help catching up or anything, I’d gladly help you” I allow just the faintest smile to my lips, a smile schooled to stick all day while I’m at work, formal and polite, and she deems it enough of an answer.

“Sup guys” Cassian announces his arrival by saying, sitting down beside Mor, Azriel in tow behind him, sitting down beside him, opposite of Elain. Those gloves are still on his hands.

“What took you two so long?” Feyre asks, glancing towards the clock. “Lunch’s over in twenty minutes” I see something dark enter Cassian’s hazel eyes, a deeper and truer darkness than the mask he wears to seem strong and intimidating.

“Eris’s and his idiot brothers had some words they wanted to share, Az and I made sure to shut them the fuck up” That same darkness can be found in Azriel’s eyes, though while a raging fire burns behind Cassian’s, a lethal ice rests behind Azriel’s.

“Discreetly, I hope” Rhysand adds to the conversation, and I make it a point to eat my food, figuring that shutting them up involved a few punches.

If they are the monsters they keep in line, then maybe I’ll let it slide as them protecting those who can’t by being an imposing threat to those who wish to harm. That thought helps me stay put where I am, at least.

“When are we not?” Cassian says with too much casualty. A glance at Rhys and I note he hardly looks impressed.

“No blood was spilled” Azriel adds, his voice as smooth and unbothered, and Rhys seems to deem it enough.

There is a reigning silence for a moment, everyone busy eating, but Mor decides to brake it by dragging me into it.

“Estelle has the same art-class as you do, Feyre, at least I think so” I see Feyre’s head perk up at that, and she looks my way with a dulled down, but kind smile.

“You’re an artist?” I nod gently. “Nice to have another in the Circle” She returns to her food.

Rest of Lunch passes in relative silence, only small-talk between the Circle, as they call it, and I make no attempt to join, because only Azriel would understand, and I get this feeling that he too prefers the silence over chatting.

English with Mor and Elain goes by swiftly, the assignment simple enough and I easily spread out a schedule to make sure I get it done in time, and when that course is done, leaving only music, I bid Mor and Elain goodbye for the day with a wave, mainly cause they said goodbye first.

Very few have taken the music class, apparently, and those who are there already know one another and have designated bands or groups. I don’t try to join any of them, setting myself down at the grand piano and doing the simple theory paper in peace, nothing I don’t already know atop it, this course mainly to give myself some kind of breather between the tougher classes, my major social studies and human psychology.

When my paper is filled and done, I return to my lonely grand piano and idly play some classical songs, music the one thing I will never let anyone take from me. The larger bands fizzle out into smaller assembly rooms to play together, leaving me with the teacher.

He seems like a nice man, in his mid forties and seems to know what he’s doing. I know he’s watching me as I play, and I don’t miss a beat as he stands to head my way.

“You’re Estelle, right? The new student from Hybern?” I silently thank him for the low tone to his voice as he sits down on one of the stools closer to the piano.

I nod as my only answer.

“You’re quite skilled with the piano, aren’t you” He smile, a kind and genuine one, and while I am wary even of teachers, the ones I’ve met here so far seem nice enough. He looks to the series of doors to the smaller band rooms, some of the music they’re making leaking into the grander hall I’m in, then looks back at me. “If you ever need a quiet place to relax in, feel free to come here, I’m usually in the workroom outside, so just come knocking and I’ll let you in” I hold his gaze, realizing why he is offering, that he knows what I’ve come here from, why I am in Prythian now, and I nod, accepting the silent offer of sanctuary should I need it.

He smiles a little wider and looks to the clock.

“Well, I’ll make rounds, keep playing to your heart’s content, it’s lovely to listen to” He rises and moves to see how his other students are doing, and I do just that, continuing to play until the clock nears 15:00 and the lesson ends.

From there, I rush to my locker to get my things sorted and dress into my warmer outdoor clothes before rushing to the streets, ignoring the group of people I recognize at the parking lot, only about an hour before my shift begins, and a twenty minute walk before I get there. When I arrive I have to change into my work-uniform and have my dinner sandwich, so time is not my friend.

I arrive half four and head into the staff changing room to quickly get changed, then go and grab my daily sandwich from the display, greeting my coworkers with that schooled pleasant smile, as well as a slight wave before disappearing back into the staff-room to have my dinner.

It’s a swift dinner, and soon I tie my apron around me and join Mary behind the counter today, making orders while she takes them. Mondays are usually calm, only people passing by to get their take away on the way home from work, so the establishment is mostly empty.

When someone passes through the door, ringing the bell, I think little off it, cleaning the cream machine taking up more of my attention, but as Mary speaks, my attention shifts.

“Good afternoon Azriel, same as usual?” I glance her way, and indeed, there stands Azriel, in his gloved glory, a motorcycle helmet under his arm, his short black hair disheveled, though I can tell he tried to run a hand through it to fix it.

“Yeah” Is all his says, and Mary turns to me with a smile.

“A large black coffee, no milk, no sugar” I nod, then point between the floor and the door, and Mary looks to Azriel. “Staying or in a rush today?”

“Staying” She nods and I take that as my cue to get to work.

They handle the payment while I grind the beans, and I go to get a mug, torn between one of the white ones or the black one. After a glance at Azriel and his rather dark attire, I decide that black suits him best and get working again.

It’s quickly done, mainly cause it’s the most plain order one could make, and I set it on the retrieval tray. Mary doesn’t even have to call his name before he comes to get it.

There is a look of recollection in his eyes as he briefly locks his with mine, like he remembers seeing me here the day before, and considering how observant and calculating he seems, how focused and intelligent according to Mor, I don’t doubt it.

He’s about to step away when his eyes fix on something, fixes on my neck, just above the collar of my green uniform shirt, and he pauses. I don’t grant him the privilege of looking any closer as I walk away, ignoring how my heart beats irregularly in my chest, how my legs shake and my hands quiver.

They can’t know, _they can’t know_ , no one can know, this is my new start, I _can’t_ have anyone see, they _can’t_ know a _thing_.

I repeat it over and over while I return to distract myself with the cream machine, keeping my mind on my work while the customers drop in now and then, ignoring how Azriel keeps looking my way as he types away at his computer, sipping on his coffee.

Closing hour couldn’t come sooner, and I change into my regular wear swiftly before taking a sweep of the place and making sure everything is in order, than lock up and drag myself home through the cold, taking the swiftest shower before surrendering to bed.


	2. Refusal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another day, more happy encounters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope I do the characters justice, but it's hard, so expect some flaws here and there, and feel free to give feedback.

The next morning plays out the same as the one before, and I arrive at school just as early. Azriel is there today too, working on some assignment while he waits for the rest of his Circle to arrive, and I silently sit myself down at the same seat as the day before, feeling so so tired.

Sleep wasn’t as soothing as it had been the day before, his acknowledgment—even as brief as it was—was enough to tick me off, and my sleep was plagued by nightmares, all based on truths I’d rather leave behind me, but seem to be unable to let go of.

I spot a coffee machine in the corner of the room, a stack of paper cups beside it, and I rise, thinking that maybe I could get some energy out of that. As I work to figure out the thing, which is simple enough, Azriel actually speaks.

“Most say they tire of coffee when working at coffeehouses” I look back at him as the machine works out my order, some coffee and milk, plain and simple.

 _Energy is energy._ He watches me sign with focus and deliberation, and his stoic face shifts into the slightest ghost of a smile as he figures out what I said.

“Fair enough” He looks back at the computer, looking about as tired as myself right now.

Considering the machine is free of charge somehow—curtsy of Rhys if the note is to be believed, reading “ _Drink up foul beasts, and may you all be a little less unbearably annoying to deal with”_ —I make a plain black coffee for Azriel as well, figuring he’ll need some sort of energy boost before the cackle of his Circle comes around in about ten to fifteen minutes.

With both cups in hand, I move back to where he’s seated and silently set his down on the desk beside his hand, and his head snaps to it, but I don’t catch his facial features as I move to sit down at my own seat. Azriel grabs the mug and turns in his seat just enough to look back at me comfortably as I sip on my bitter beverage of liquid energy.

 _Why?_ He signs with his left hand, bringing the mug to his lips, something twinkling in his eyes as it hits his tongue, something like surprise or recollection.

 _You looked like you needed one._ I sign back as I set my mug down, and again, the slightest smile spreads across his lips.

 _Thank you._ I shrug it off and keep drinking down my coffee, leaving Azriel to do his work.

The circle arrives soon enough, filling the quiet with chatter and noise. It mainly seems to be inside jokes, mostly at one of the member’s expense, varying from time to time; but Cassian seems to be the most common punching bag. From my idle listening, I learn that Rhys, Cass, Nesta and Azriel are juniors, and Feyre a freshman.

Time passes, and I go to my classes, sometimes with sweet Elain alongside me, sometimes both her and Mor, sometimes just Mor, and sometimes all by myself, and most other students leave me be, until lunch comes along. Disturbing Mor and Feyre’s discussion about this apparent tool called Tamlin from Spring, a group of three guys who look to be of varying age arrive at our table, most brown haired and brown eyed, though some a slight red hint to both their eyes and hair.

“Would you look at that, Rhysand has a new pet” One of them coos, staring me down with what I read as cruel and hateful eyes. Their attire suggests Autumn Court.

“Fuck off Tallan, or I’ll have Cassian and Azriel give you all another, longer _conversation_ about how to treat those above you” Rhysand’s tone is commanding and dangerous, but the three guys only laugh at his threat.

“What? We just want an introduction, it’s not often we see new faces in Prythian” I feel my heart-rate speed up, but I force down the shaking of my limbs, using deep controlled breaths to maintain my calm indifference.

“What’s your name, pretty thing?” One that is not called Tallan asks, and I shift my gaze to him.

“None of your fucking business” Mor spits at him, granting her their attention. It’s then I notice the icy lethality in Azriel’s eyes.

“Oh right, the slut has a voice, I almost forgot” This deadly tension fills the air, and Azriel’s gloved hands clench into fists, the leather groaning slightly at the strain. Rhysand is the first to stand though, and while he isn't much taller, his presence gives of this might that even the three of them together cannot muster.

“Leave, before Mor decides to rip your tongues out and feed them to the crows” Only cold, lethality laces that voice, and one of the guys have the brains to look a little unnerved. Tallan’s eyes go to mine however, and a serpentine smile spreads across his disgusting lips.

“I’ll see you around pretty dove” The words send shivers through my body. And with that, all four of them disappear through the crowd, leaving uncomfortable silence behind them.

Mor is the first to brake it.

“They can’t do anything to you, you’re safe, don’t worry” I look to her, and while I want to believe her, want to think that this school will be different from all the rest, I cannot.

Despite that, I nod and let them all think I trust them.

Õ

Last period of social studies drags on past the designated time, and it leaves me rushing to work with less than half an hour before I begin.

I narrowly manage to get into my uniform before the clock strikes 16, and I take my place as coffee maker without my dinner in my tummy.

Mary though, bless her soul, tells me to have my dinner anyways, as long as I stay in the seating area and help if a rush comes along, but considering it’s Tuesday, only the few and far between customers will come along.

Azriel, apparently a frequent visitor here, a daily even, arrives and orders the usual. I see him watch the place with studying eyes while he waits for Mary to fix his order on her own, and they pause in their observation as he spots me seated at one of the corner tables with a good view of the place, but little insight from the customers.

I can tell a decision is being made in his head, can see it in his eyes as he watches the empty seat before me, and he gets his coffee and heads my way. He silently sits down at the seat opposite of mine and sets down his backpack on the floor by his feet, and I practically ignore him as I eat away at my chicken and curry sandwich.

“Tallan’s threat shouldn't be ignored” He mumbles, and I dare meet his gaze. “He and his brothers are scheming bastards, especially Eris, if they have their eyes on you, it could get bad” I set down my sandwich and straighten in my seat.

 _Why me?_ A question I have been asking for so many years now. He shrugs.

“I don’t know” He pulls out his phone and types away at something. “But you should have contact with one of us in case they try something” I realize what he’s asking, and even if giving out my phone-number is a little iffy for me, I see the logic and feel foolish for even considering to deny the offer.

I pull out my own old and worn phone and type my way to the contacts list, then we wordlessly switch phones so I can type in my number and he his. It’s a quick switch, and I idly note that his name’s Azriel in my sad list of contacts before turning off my screen and returning it to my pocket. Azriel does the same.

“If you think you’re being followed for whatever reason, text me where you are, no matter when” I meet his hazel eyes.

 _Why?_ Why care? Why bother?

 _Because._ Is all he answers.

 _That’s not a proper answer._ He shrugs, and I assume he doesn’t want to share too much, much like myself.

But I do decide to ask something for myself, something I’ve been curious about since yesterday.

 _Why do you know sign language?_ He watches me for a moment, and I take the time to keep chewing at my sandwich.

 _I found speaking without words intriguing._ Perhaps for similar reasons as I did, he not one of many words.

Õ

Wednesday turns out to be one of the less fun days, mainly because I have gymnastics last period, for eighty minutes as well.

The entire Circle is there, say for Elain who apparently chose a botany class instead, which doesn’t really surprise me. She is like a flower, delicate and lovely, but I sometimes wonder if she doesn’t have just the slightest hints of thorns, like a rose, an edge she tries to hide with that loveliness and beauty.

Gymnastics is only a problem because I have to change with all the other ladies, but I figure that changing in the bathroom works fine as well, and it does. The real issue becomes Cassian's comment about the long sleeved running shirt I’m wearing.

“You’re going to get a heatstroke if you keep that on” He says as he approaches us girls with as much flexing and swagger as I have learnt one might expect from Cassian. I ignore him and go to the teacher, listening intently as he instructs us how to go about the workout stations, all focusing on basic core muscles and strength, all the things I no longer have due to dear Hybern.

The Circle pairs up, and coincidentally leaves me to pair with Azriel, which is actually preferable to any of the other guys, as Azzy feels like someone I can trust just enough after what he did the day before, and while I wouldn’t consider him a friend—wouldn’t consider any of these people friends out of fear that they actually don’t care about me, just pity me cause I’m new—I consider him decent enough.

I do about as well at the stations as I expect from myself, my breath coming out short after just a couple push-ups, and I hate it, hate how crippled I have become after Hybern, how my bed-riddance has destroyed me, changed me. They won, in every single way they could have, they won.

Azriel, thankfully, doesn’t say anything about my lack of strength, just as no one thus far has commented on how thin I am. Azriel does however give me tips on how to better hold myself to not injure myself, and while I know most of the tips he throws my way—my body just too weak to keep up with those forms—I accept them without question, too tired to argue.

Then comes the hard part. I have to shower before work, lest I’ll smell like crap, and while I manage to get the teacher to let me use one of the isolated shower rooms, it still means I have to hurry. It’s a sloppy and rushed shower, but enough, and by the time I’m dressed and ready to go, I have about forty minutes to get to work, which is fine enough.

I still hurry to my locker to get my things sorted, but on the way there, the silence becomes eerie, mainly because of what Azriel told me the day before, and I keep my eyes on every turn, every door, noting where they lead, memorizing what routs will lead to an exit and which lead to dead ends.

This turns out to be useless, and I get to work without issue, though on this particular day, Azriel doesn’t make an appearance at work.

Õ

After sharing a calm and quiet morning coffee with Azriel after yet another rather fitful night and a rather pained body after yesterday’s workout, I learn that Feyre is an absolutely amazing artist. We do indeed share art-class on Thursdays, and while I still have not accepted that these people actually care for me in whatever way, I do find myself in awe at her portraits, while mine are mediocre at best, me more of a sketch artist.

Sadly, that turns out to be my last fun course of the day, math, English and social relations decent enough, but nothing compared to art with Feyre. One good thing is that Tallan and his brothers keep away, but I discover that one of said brothers, Lucien—not one of the three at lunch—is an actually decent guy, a close friend of Elain, and probably secretly something more than that.

Work is equally fun, no Azriel today either, and I return home exhausted and ready for the weekend to grant me just a day of rest.

Õ

“The Circle’s going out tonight to celebrate surviving a week, interested in coming along?” Azriel asks as I once again make him his usual morning brew, having become a habit of sorts. I look to him, unsure what to say at first.

 _I have work._ I sign, and he takes a moment to process.

“When do you end” It’s more of a statement than a question.

 _Eight._ He seems to think about it.

“I could come pick you up after and take you there” I hold his gaze for a moment, then bring mine and his coffee towards our desks, and he spins in his to face me.

 _I’ll need to go home first, change._ He nods.

 _Of course._ He signs back, and I wonder why in the hell I’m even considering to agree.

I can’t afford a night out, I don’t have that money, but maybe just being around people could help, because I don’t want Hybern to win, I don’t want them to dictate my life, my behavior, so one night, I’ll give it a shot, I’ll grant Azriel and his Circle a chance to prove that people aren’t only cruel and hateful, both capable of kindness and compassion.

 _Sure._ And he smiles, a genuine, friendly smile, and it makes something in my heart feel lighter.

Õ

Agreeing caused the entire day to go excruciatingly slow though, even if Human Psychology was interesting enough. By the time seven comes around and barely any customers walk through those doors, I’m just making sure everything’s sorted and clean until tomorrow, sweeping the floor, washing the tables, the counter, the machines.

The bell rings though while I’m polishing the glass display, and I turn, expecting it to be Azriel, early, but my blood freezes as my eyes lock with the person walking through those doors. I stand, holding his gaze, chin held high in defiance as I meet those cruel eyes, and he smirks as he approaches.

“I heard rumors this was where you worked, the silent waitress; they call you” His tone is mocking, hateful, endlessly amused with himself, and while Elain’s brown eyes are kind, Mor’s bright, Tallan’s are nothing but mocking as he looks at me.

I look to the staff-room, wondering when Mary will come back from her toilet brake.

“Now now, no need to cower in fear, I’m not here to hurt you” He’s only a couple steps in front of me when I look to him again, and I step back as close to the glass display as I can, my heart thumping wildly in my chest, screaming at me to run, but the memories have dug their tallons too deep into my mind, freezing me in place.

Azriel, I need to call Azriel.

But as I reach for the phone safely tucked in my pocket he lunges and pins my arms to the glass display, a wicked smile on his lips.

“Don't be a sour sport now, dove” His breath is disgusting, his touch repelling, _so much like his,_ this situation so similar to that night. Tallan’s eyes skim over my body, focusing on something on my right. My mind can’t process it, stuck in the memories of everything that brought me here, of Dagdan and his filthy hands, Brannagh and her wicked mind. The bell is only a distant sound.

My legs buckle beneath me as Tallan is ripped away from me, and the sight before me remains blurry as I lose myself in it all.

“Leave her be” A smooth and lethal voice pierces through the haze, and some focus returns to my eyes, enough to see and notice Azriel stood between me and Talla, gloved fists clenched at his sides.

“Calm down, Azriel, I got what I came here for, I won’t touch your toy anymore” I see him glance past Azriel’s broad frame to look down at me, sat on the floor, knees against my chest. “Looks like I might have broken her though, sorry about that, I know dogs hate it when other people brake their things” Azriel looks back at me for just a second, concern flashing in his hazel eyes, but his focus quickly returns to Tallan. “Goodbye Estelle, I’ll see you around” I only vaguely hear the bell notify his exit, only vaguely notice Azriel crouch down before me.

My name, he took my name, my badge, he came to take my name, my full name, he—he can find me, find everything.

“Estelle” My eyes snap to Azriel's. My hands are shaky as I lift them before me.

 _Fine._ I sign, when in fact, I am far from fine.

He reaches a hand out for me to grab, and I shakily clasp it and let him haul me to my feet, my weight nothing to him. Just then, Mary returns, and I look back at her. Her blue eyes look between me and Azriel, and she smiles, blissfully unaware of what just transpired.

“You can head out, El, you’ve cleaned up nicely, I’ll lock up tonight” I nod and move out of Azriel’s grasp to go to the backroom, answering the wink Mary throws my way with an eye-roll. I change quickly and go to meet Azriel in the shop again, and I bid Mary goodbye with a wave and head out along with him, my hands still a little shaky from the encounter, but the splashes of cold water to my face enough to clear my head enough to function, at least enough to go out tonight as planned.

Because I will not let it break me, will not let the past chain me, not any longer, I will brake those chains no matter what it takes.

Azriel’s ride is a truck, which actually surprises me, considering he came in with a motorcycle helmet the first day, and apparently noticing my confusion, he speaks.

“Borrowed Cass’s truck tonight, Mor still has my spare helmet” He unlocks the truck and gets inside, and I follow after, my body mostly calmed by the time Azriel starts the car, the lingering quivers something I can blame on the cold. “Where do you live?” I look to him, then instantly feel stupid for not thinking about that already.

I reach my hand out, demanding his phone, and he obliges, clicking to google maps before handing it to me, and I swiftly type in my address and hand it back, getting comfortable in my seat, staring out into the dark parking lot while Azriel takes a moment to look at the marked path.

It’s only a been few minutes into the ride when he speaks again.

“He didn’t actually hurt you, did he” It comes out a little flat, but I can tell he cares for whatever reason, maybe we actually have bonded through our silent morning coffee this week.

Out of all in the Circle, I must say that Azriel is the most pleasant company beside Elain, though Elain can’t speak with me like this, something I usually feel no drive to, but for some reason do with Azriel, at least some sort of will to answer his questions, and ask whatever pops into my head.

I shaky my head at his words, no need to sign this one.

“You looked shaken” I keep my eyes firmly on the road, not inclined to answer this particular wordless question I hear behind his words.

Azriel seems to get my message and doesn’t say anything more on the way to my complex, and he silently parks, silently walks out with me, and we both silently ascends the five sets of stairs to my tiny apartment because I couldn’t bring myself to ask him to stay in the car after what happened in the shop, stupid to be scared, but I can’t help it, because I’m weak and defenseless right now, and that won’t be changing any time soon.

 _Don’t touch anything._ I sign before stepping through the door, catching his nod as I do, going about my usual routine of pealing of my winter clothes, but instead of going to the shower, I go to my bedroom and look through whatever one might wear on a night out.

I hardly have anything decent, but I find a light blue blouse and a pair of black pants, and from there I make do with the little accessories I have, all silver colored. I braid back my hair after a quick comb, then return to the hallway, finding Azriel right where I left him, waiting in the foyer.

“You live alone” He states more than asks, his eyes on the barren walls, no sign of any family photos anywhere, and he won’t find any no matter where he looks, the only art-pieces on these walls some of my own making.

I nod, pulling on my coat again, but ditch the scarf. I take a quick look at my bank account, not happy about the sum there, but figure I might be able to squeeze something into the budget if I want to.

“It’s… A nice place” I shrug and stuff my phone into my pocket, zipping it shut to keep it safe, then reach for my keys. “How long have you lived alone” He asks as I move to the door, and he steps out in response, letting me close and lock the door behind us.

 _Always._ I sign, and it really isn’t a lie, just a sad, sad truth.

Whether Azriel acknowledges this sad truth or not is uncertain, but I don’t wait to see, moving to descend those fleets of stairs again and get on with this night.

Õ

“There you two are! Took you long enough!” Mor finds us immediately as we enter the club, called Rita’s apparently.

“Traffic” Azriel says as an excuse, even though traffic was fairly clear. I’m just glad he doesn’t tell her about Tallan.

“Well, common, we’ve already ordered a round for us all” Mor cuts between us and hooks her left arm with my right, and her right with Azriel's left, then drags us towards the seating.

Too many people, there are _way_ too many people here.

I don’t have time to dwell on that fact, as Mor takes us to a seating full of people. Amren isn’t there, nor is Elain, but everyone else are, and Mor squeezes me and Azriel into the rounded couch alongside her, and everyone’s faces light up when they look at me.

“Glad you could make it, Estelle” Rhys says, lifting his glass of some alcohol in cheers, Mor motions at me to take the one before me, bought for me, but something in me doesn’t allow it, my arm freezing up, my eyes fixing on that drink. Recollections of the senior high-school party comes to mind, and I shudder.

 _I don’t drink._ I sign, hoping Azzy picks up on it.

“She doesn’t drink” Mor looks mighty disappointed, Rhys silently understanding as he lowers his glass, and Cass looks surprised.

“Then why come here if she doesn’t drink” Nesta’s hostile voice cuts through the air, and I meet her gaze.

“Maybe she just wanted some company, that’s something people do” Cass intersects, snatching Nesta’s attention.

“I’m sober tonight too, I’m driving your car home later, Cass” Cass looks to Azriel.

“Aw common bro, we can pick it up tomorrow! Live a little!” Azriel only shakes his head. Mor also looks mighty disappointed.

She runs her hand along his arm, a sweet smile on her lips.

“Common Azzy, have some fun” I notice his cheeks redden a little, but he still firmly shakes his head.

“Let’s stop arguing and get to drinking” Feyre announces, lifting her glass to the middle of the table, and everyone else follow suit, all but me and Azriel.

Eventually, after a few more rounds, Mor snatching my glass and downing it in a few chugs as well, Mor proceeds to drag me to the dance-floor, and Feyre and Rhys follow along.

“Common, lets move to the music!” Mor exclaims, doing just that herself.

I move a little, but it’s apparently not enough, as she grabs my hands and starts spinning me about, smiling and laughing, and while I feel mighty uncomfortable on this crowded floor, Mor just makes me want to smile, just a little, as she twirls me about.

“Your hair is so pretty” Mor says, reaching a hand up to one of the free strands of platinum hair. “How do you get it so perfect?” I would answer if I wasn’t sworn to silence. Mor seems tor realize this, and her hand falls to my shoulder.

I flinch and step away, ripping myself from her grasp, my heart raging in my chest. Mor just looks dumbfound before me.

“I’m sorry, did I hurt you? Are you alright?” I nod faintly, but her touch sends my mind racing, my heart panicking, and I flash her a tiny apologetic smile before moving towards the exit, needing air, lots of it. The door is mercifully silent as I step out onto the patio, leaning against the railing with a deep breath and equally deep sigh, letting the cool air sooth me.

I stand there in silence and utter solitude for a moment, say for the cars driving past now and then, but then I hear the door faintly creek open, and a set of silent footsteps approaching me. He leans against the railing along with me, keeping about an arms-length away, at firs not saying a thing.

“Mor’s sorry, though isn’t sure what she did” I don’t look at him as I sign.

 _She’s forgiven._ Because she doesn’t know, and she can’t know, will never know, no one will. I see him watching me in the corner of my eye, watching my left shoulder with contemplation, but he doesn’t ask about it.

“Do you want me to drive you home” I don’t move at first, then nod softly.

 _Tell them I’m thankful they invited me._ I see him nod in the corner of my eye.

“They’ll understand if you wish to go home, they won’t shun you” That is somehow reassuring. “Common” He says, pushing off the railing to move to the parking lot. I silently follow after him.

This time, as he starts the truck, he does not ask for my address, but from what I’ve gathered about Azriel, he is one to memorize things, so it isn’t much of a surprise.

“Any reason you don’t drink, so I can give them a reason not to push you about it” I wonder why he cares to ask such a thing, he clearly has some kind of crush on Mor, and I’m far from as lovely and good as Mor. But maybe he understands somehow, maybe his gloves hide something much like my sleeves and collars hide things.

By some miracle, I decide to share just a sliver of information, all because of the maybe.

 _I had a spiked one once._ I sign clear enough for him to see, and I see him tense up in his seat, his hand clenching the steering wheel tighter. He doesn’t comment, which is better than any pity he could give me, just silent acceptance and understanding.

Eventually, we arrive at my complex, and I move to step out.

“Should I follow you up” I look back at him, door half open, and shake my head. He looks reluctant to agree, but does so anyways, nodding once both in goodbye and acceptance. I give him a gentle wave and sign a thank you before closing the door behind me and disappearing to the complex, ready to lay myself down and rest already, clothes and all. And in the end, as I lock myself in my lonely cold apartment, I head straight to bed.

Õ

I wake up at ten on Saturday, the one day I am allowed to sleep in, allowed some time to breathe. That however does not mean I have time to soak in bed, so I get up and decide to just wear the clothes I have already, clean enough for a lazy Saturday.

My usual sad toast and water is my breakfast, and when I manage to push it down I engage my routine. The duster comes out first, and I dust off every bookcase and desk and all that fun stuff, then change my bed, then pull out the vacuum and start the real cleaning. That takes around an hour, and when as much dust as I could find is gone, I move on to the mopping, soap and water doing the trick.

I save the kitchen counters for later, knowing cooking will make them dirty anyways, and instead go ahead and do my laundry, sorting out everything, and starting a white haul first. While I wait for that to be done I set up the drying rack in the living-room and go to the fridge to see what I might possibly make for lunch today.

Potatoes and meatballs it is.

I set up the pot and pan on the stove, filling the pot with the water I need, then start cooking, starting with the potatoes.

While I wait for the potatoes to boil, the clothes get done washing, so I get it out and start the colored wash before taking the wet clothes to the drying rack and hanging them up. By the time that is done the potatoes are boiling and I get started on the meatballs, just a pitch of butter to keep them from sticking and the slightest sprinkle of pepper to get some flavor.

By the time I’m halfway done with my lunch the second wash is done, and I leave it for just a second to finish my last bits of potato, then set my plate and all that stuff on the counter for washing eventually, thereafter going to switch the last haul of clothes, the black ones all that’s left, including my school uniform.

With the colored clothes hung up, I move on to the dishes, swiftly cleaning them and setting them aside to dry, using a wet cloth to clean the counter and sink while I’m at it.

By the time the last haul of clothes is done and I go to hang those up as well, the entire house is as clean as I can bother to make it, and I grab my school computer from my bag and get to the couch, settling down in the cushions. I do some of the assignments I’ve fallen behind on, getting myself back on schedule, which takes a few hours, and by the time the clock is four in the afternoon, I truly have nothing else I _need_ to do, leaving only what I _want_ to do.

Or well, not exactly.

There is one last thing, the thing I need to do once a week yet still seem to forget until the last minute, so I set my computer down on the wooden coffee-table before me and rise with a sigh, heading to the bathroom.

The cream the doctor gave me is a taunting presence in my bathroom cupboard, and my hand shakes as I reach for it, the memories always so strong when I come around to this, when I am forced to face the truth head on, unable to ignore it as I do when I dress, forced to see it and acknowledge it.

I set the tin of salve down at the edge of the sink and slowly, my hands shaky, undo the buttons of my light blue blouse, until I am stood with nothing but my bra and pants before the mirror.

The dark, charred and blistered skin hits me like a slap to the face as I allow my eyes to look. It runs from just above the nape of my neck, down over part of my chest and part of my left arm. The mark Hybern will always have on me, the memories of that foul place quite literary burnt into my skin.

Taking a deep breath, I open the tin and get some of the thick white cream onto my finger, careful as I spread it across the burn, meant to keep my skin flexible enough not to impair my everyday life. Every second of the touch is dreadful, sending jabs of panic into my blood, my heart, the memories of Brannagh as she laughed, Dagdan right beside her, a cruel and amused smile on his lips. But I refuse to brake, so I keep applying the slave, until all I _want_ to do is disappear from this world.

Õ

Sunday is a long day of work, from ten sharp to four in the afternoon, but I gladly take the hours, the time a good distraction from the reality of my life, my past, and I gladly do the cleaning, find it therapeutic in a way, to turn something unpleasant into something appealing, even if cleaning is that in the most loosest sense.

Azriel, Rhys and Cassian arrive around two, all with laptops in tow, about to do some group studying I assume. They notice me by one of the tables, cleaning it after a group of teens left a few moments ago, and Rhys and Cass wave, while Az inclines his head in greeting. I give them a polite, gentle wave and continue my work.

Not because I’m intentionally eavesdropping, but I hear them discussing some English assignment collaborated with their history class, and Cass sounds very frustrated about his subject. Rhys seems to be doing fine, if not distracted by his phone, and Azzy is in full on focus-mode.

My thirty minute brake comes along, and I grab my usual sandwich and am about to retreat to the backroom when someone calls my name.

“Dear Estelle, you wouldn’t happen to know something interesting about the Civil War?” It’s Rhysand who’s stood past the glass display, a signature smirk of his painted across his face. “Azriel is no help, and there’s no use asking Cassian” I look to my colleague, but he seems unbothered by Rhysand’s approach, ignoring him even, and considering he’s a college student much like myself, a freshman, I assume he knows about the monster he pretends to be.

I pull out my small notebook and pen and write out a message for him.

 _Hybern lost._ Rhysand smirks a little wider as he reads it.

“Well yeah, that’s common knowledge, I’m looking for something a little more interesting to write about” I consider whether to humor him and lose part of my brake, or just ditch him. My colleague would surely find me ballsy if I just left the great Rhysand in the dust. But perhaps he’d be even more surprised if I chose to sit with him and his lackeys for dinner-brake, and I do enjoy their company, even if they’re behind masks most of the time, and I cannot fully bring myself to trust them at all times.

But if I don’t try to trust again, Hybern wins.

 _Let me sit with you and we’ll see._ He reads the words for a moment, then nods and heads to his able, me in tow.

I take the last seat at the four person table, opposite of Cass, and I idly chew on my chicken sandwich while I read through what Rhys has already written. I note the lack of one detail, the one that practically led to the Equalist’s victory, and I write that down in my notebook.

 _Write about Jurian’s and Clythia’s role in the war, the madness that led to victory._ Rhysand reads the note with focused interest.

“That… That might actually work, I didn’t think of that, thank you” His smile is genuine as he looks to me, still eating away at my dinner. I wave his thanks off, and I silently sit with them as they work, Cass the most verbal about how shit everything is going for him, practically begging Az to help him. He does _not_ help him, and I have too little time left to do anything.

My brake is eventually over, and I bid the three of them goodbye before getting on with work.

Sleep doesn’t come easy later that day, because I realize that Tallan and his brothers got my name, and there’s no telling what he’ll do with it, what information he and his brothers will dig up and spread.

Õ

I miss my bus, curse me, forced to walk to school on this very fine Monday morning, cold as any winter day. But I do arrive before eight, before any of the Nightmare students arrive, as Mor calls them. The circle is already there though, and they look at me with question as I enter the classroom, looking tired both mentally and physically.

I ignore their watchful gazes and move to the coffee maker, casting Azriel a tired but clearly questioning glance, at which he nods, and I go on to make him some as well, to make up for my lack of a presence this morning that somehow has become a routine for us both. Because when I saw that bus leave only seconds before I got to the station, I thought of Azriel and how I’d miss his silent company before the mess of school would start, and halfway there, I got a text from Az wondering where I was, most likely concerned for my well being for the same reason I look over my shoulder every now and then in case the Vanserra brothers are on my tail.

I texted him the truth, that I missed the bus, and he said nothing more.

The Circle watches us both questioning as I set down his paper mug of coffee on his desk as I pass by, his nod the only thanks I get, and need, then move to down my own coffee at my desk.

“You’re usually here early, what happened?” Feyre asks, and I cast Azriel a glance, wondering why he hasn’t said anything already. He seems to interpret my gaze as inviting to do just that.

“She missed the bus” He mutters behind his coffee, and I shrug off the apologetic looks on their faces, not quite pity, but almost guilty. For what, I’m not sure.

I don’t linger with them, making my way to my creative writing a little earlier to get a head start, and that two hour class goes fine, progress great.

Math afterwards is decent, Mor and Elain silent pleasant company, and lunch after is fine. I spot Tallan and another stood with him, one I do not recognize, a red haired guy who looks like another brother of his. He looks our way and smiles a cruel smile at Mor, then Tallan says something and his eyes shift to me, and that cruel smile becomes amused.

“Common” Mor urges both me and Elain. “Eris is an ass you shouldn’t grant attention” And with that said we head to our table, crowded due to the entire gang being present, but I sit myself down so that no one touches my shoulder. Lunch consists of complaining about the food, at least Mor does, which causes Nesta to lash out about how not everyone can afford food as good as this, and Feyre seems inclined to agree with her, though does so silently as Mor and Nesta go head to head.

I keep out of it, eating away at the meaty stew and potatoes, a large haul meant to last me practically all day, because I can’t afford much better at home, but they can’t know that, if they know how much of a broke loser I am they’ll probably throw me to the real monsters at this school.

“Estelle seems content enough, why can’t you just accept the food you get” Nesta says, dragging me into it anyways, and I dare a glance at the two, still glaring at one another, but Mor does cast a glance at my significant portion, even if the majority is already gone.

“People have differentiating tastes, Nesta, ever thought about that?” Mor snaps, but Rhys, thank him, intersects.

“Can we just agree that food is food even if it sometimes doesn’t taste as good and get on with our lives?” Nesta and Mor quiet down.

“Fine” Mor grumbles, digging into her stew with a noticeable cringe, and Nesta just doing that, getting on with her life in deafening silence.

She really is something, a honed blade of opinions and lethal words, but not horrible, just a very steely personality, one I understand clashes with Mor’s bubbly and outgoing one, an optimist and a harsh realist.

Nesta and Amren really go better together, Amren almost harsher and more upfront than Nesta.

After English with Mor and Elain, I go on to music class, and much like before, it is mainly free to do as one pleases, though there are talks about preforming during prom and whatnot, and some concert the school holds before spring break to kick off the break.

I don’t sign to join, losing myself at the piano like the week before, the teacher not bothering me, though I can tell he wants to ask something now and then as he passes, but I just keep playing. There is one song I decide to play, one so personal I almost don’t dare, but I do it, the tones shaky and uncertain at first, but growing into the song it is meant to be as my confidence grows.

It is a song of sadness, longing and pain. A song of hopefulness and dreaming, longing for something better, something beyond what they have, something so far out of their reach. I don’t let the tears fall down my cheeks, keep then locked inside as I play, and the time simply melts away.

Õ

Only Azriel comes to the café as usual today, and I make his order, then ask Mary through note if I can have my dinner-brake now as I missed the time-frame today, lost in music class. She complies and I sit myself down with him. Though his focus is mainly on his computer, I can tell he know I’m there.

We sit in comfortable silence at first, until Azriel deigns to speak.

“Do you work here every day?” His tone remains low and a little cold, but not repelling.

 _Not Saturdays._ I sign with one hand.

“What do you do then?” I consider what to say for a moment.

 _Chores, homework._ The short of it.

“And have you gone out like you did Friday lately?” I shake my head.

 _Not since high-school._ Because when I turned eighteen I made the deal with the government that allows me to live the way I do when going off to college, and I’ve been lucky to continue this even in Prythian.

The apartment in Hybern was smaller but cheaper, though the one I have now is more a home than any place has ever felt.

“How do you make it alone?” I know he means money-wise, he and I both not ones to prefer large company, but one on one is pleasant, or smaller groups.

 _I made a deal with the devil._ He smiles faintly, even lets out a faint snort.

“No, but really” I sigh. No one should know, not about my past, but my current situation is not my past, it’s caused by my past, but it isn’t my past.

 _The government pays a third of my rent and most my school expense, from there I’m on my own._ Luckily, Prythian High Lord, which is a stupid name, has very cheap expenses once you’re actually in, the real cost is the place in the school, most books are borrowed and only ones you have to pay for if you lose.

 _Parents?_ He signs, as if figuring it’s a sore subject.

 _It’s complicated._ I sign because I really don’t want to get into it. But it really isn’t. They didn’t want me, and all the other families after didn’t either, and when I turned eighteen I gladly took responsibility of my own life.

Said life became hell in college though, which had only been a slight inconvenience during high-school, but now I have a chance to set things straight, and I’ll do what I can. If that means trusting Azriel at the very least, then I’ll bring myself to do it.

 _My parents were complicated too._ He signs, and I show him no pity, feel nothing but understanding, much like the one he grants me, understand that his family too is one he’d rather not think about.

 _Cass and you look like brothers, Rhys as well._ A faint smile plays on his lips.

 _We’re not, not biologically, but Rhys’s mother took_ _Cass and I_ _in when we were small, got guardianship._ I nod, their brotherly behavior making more sense now.

 _Mor?_ Azriel tries not to blush, I can tell, but he does, and for his sake I ignore it.

 _Rhys’s cousin, he has a sister in high-school too, Razie._ I nod, actually a little curious about the dynamics of the group, relationship wise.

 _Nesta, Elain and Feyre are sisters._ He nods.

 _Amren’s a friend we made in High-school._ I nod, content with the info I’ve gained. _Do you have siblings, or is that complicated too._ I consider for just a moment whether to answer that at all.

 _An older sister._ One my parents wanted more than they did me.

 _I have two real brothers, both estranged._ He signs it with such intensity that I figure he has a _very_ strained relationship with said brothers.

 _Seems we have much in common, yet not._ I comment, because much of our story seems to line up in some places, though his has taken a much brighter turn much earlier in life. He only nods to acknowledge the same thing. _Do you still live at Rhys’s?_ He nods again.

 _Both Cass and I do, but I’m moving out after college._ I would figure as much.

 _Living alone grants freedom._ I admit, even if said freedom is hardly used for things I enjoy.

 _I’d imagine._ I look at the time and silently curse in my mind, hurrying with my sandwich.

 _My brake’s almost up._ I sign, stuffing my face with my sandwich.

 _I’ll see you when I see you._ He signs as I get the last bit down and rise, and I wave a gently goodbye before returning to my duties, ignoring Mary’s suggestive and teasing look.

Õ

Tuesday morning, I actually catch the bus, and Azriel and I’s routine is revived, but aside from that, Tuesday is rather bland, pure work and little relaxation, but I make it work. At work, Azzy arrives as usual, but due to a particular rush of people today, I am forced to stay put on coffee making duty. He doesn’t come to see me anyways, he comes for the coffee, has for years apparently if Mary’s gossip is right, so it’s not a loss on his part, and shouldn’t be viewed as one for me either in turn.

Tuesday, all in all, is uneventful and boring, but I get decent sleep that night, at least.


	3. A haunting past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our demons always catch up eventually, all we can do is find a way to face them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote a fan-fic with the same character but in the actual acotar world, but I found it too complicated of a plot to get right, so I basically made a fan-fic of my own fan-fic and I couldn't be happier.

Wednesday is practically the same as the days before, say for gymnastics at the end, again muscle based, and Azriel volunteers to be my companion today as well. I do about as well as last week, but Azriel doesn’t seem to care, and I keep pushing none the less.

“We usually go to the gym together from Wednesday to Saturday afternoon, last week an exception” I deign to look his way as I do another push-up. “You could join us, on Saturdays at least” I look at him for a moment and do the last push-ups before I get my moment of rest.

_Expensive._ Gym-cards are more than just expensive.

“The gym we go to has a month free trial, so if you want to just give it a go this weekend and then see what happens, that’d work, right?” I hold his gaze.

_If you pick me up._ He smiles faintly.

“Does motorcycle work?” I nod, not really caring about the mode of transport. “I’ll text you the time on Saturday, it varies from say to day” I nod, and continue with today’s stations.

I’m absolutely exhausted after class, but I manage to shower as fast as one can while feeling like ramen noodles. By the time I’m done and making my way to my locker, the school is basically empty, and considering the time, I give Mary a heads up that I might come in a little late.

As I reach my locker, I pause before the open maw of it, something feeling off, something not quite right. I put my bag in my locker and silently close it, listening to the silence that isn’t quite as silent as it should.

“She should be at her locker by now” A distant voice says down the hall, in the general direction of the main exit. My blood freezes.

Clutching my key to keep it quiet, I silently move towards the other end of the hall, to the crook that takes me to the staircase down to the first floor, which in turn could let me circle around and get out without being noticed.

“And if she isn’t?” Another voice, older, more authoritarian, speaks down the hall, just as I round that corner and hide from view.

“Then she’ll come soon or be here same time tomorrow, we’ll get hold of her, Eris” Tallan, his brothers. They're after me.

My heart starts raising in my chest, pumping adrenaline into my blood. I want to run, want to sprint down this hallway, but that’d attract their attention, so I force my body to slowly move down the hall, doing my very best to not make a sound.

“Doesn’t seem like today’s the day though” Tallan continues, and for just a second I dare believe I’m safe.

“No, she’s here” Eris says, and the sheer surprise his utter certainty causes me makes my footing slip, making just the faintest of sound on the stone floor. “She’s right there, actually” I screw sneaking around and shoot into a sprint down the hall, hoping I might lose them in the winding halls.

I’m not that lucky, nor fast enough to outrun them, and I hear them closing in on me as I descent the stairs, laughing and cooing at me to stop while I practically fly down the steps, which turns out to be a great mistake, as I slip and tumble down the last couple ones.

I’m not fast enough to get up and keep running, because when I try to, a set of arms grab hold of me and push me against the wall, and I’m met with a pair of russet eyes and red hair.

“No need to run, Estelle, I merely wish to speak to Rhysand’s new and intriguing toy” Eris says, Tallan and his two other brothers looking smug behind him.

I struggle to get out of his grasp, but his grip is steely and strong.

“I wonder… Will the quiet little plaything maintain her oath of silence, or will she call out for help?” The brothers laugh in unison. “You see, Tallan was kind enough to find your name, and we did some research. Turns out you do speak, and according to Dagdan, has a mighty fine scream” No, _no. This can’t be happening._

I struggle, but nothing happens.

“What happened again? Second degree burns and alleged rape? But no evidence to catch the culprits?” Shut up, shut up, _shut up!_ “Such a shame they all got off the hook without issue, right?” _Shut up!_

Using strength I didn’t know I had, I kick my leg up between his and he folds in on himself, loosening his grip enough for me to bolt, and my action luckily leaves the brothers stunned for long enough to give me a head start.

I can’t outrun them, but I remember the way to a couple toilets, and I rush to get there. I narrowly manage it, just barely getting the door shut and locked before they start tugging at it, and I sink down against said door, tears streaming down my cheeks, the quietest of sobs escaping my lips.

Azriel, I need to text Azriel.

“You can’t hide forever, Estelle, not from us, not from your past” My hands are shaky as I type my way to his contact, at the top of my list. “People will find out eventually, it’s inevitable”

_School, girls’ bathroom, west wing, lower floor._ Every word is a pain to type out, my vision blurring and fingers shaking, but I press send and pray it’ll reach him, that he’s close by somehow.

“I wonder what Rhysand and his Circle of goons will say when they realize who you are, wonder if they’ll cast you out like the spoiled goods you are” Eris laughs mockingly. “Now open up Estelle, we would love to have a go too, I promise we’ll be kind, not like cruel Dagdan, you’ll enjoy it, I promise” I can’t stop shaking, I can’t stop crying. “There’s no escape sweetheart, if you unlock this door now we’ll make sure you make it to work in time, wouldn’t want to lose those precious hours of pay, would you?”

Their voices fade into the background, my own heartbeat and memories consuming my mind. My scream, my pleading, their laughter, their disgusting words, words which turned out to be true as no one found me until the morning after, passed out from pain and exhaustion in that home-education side-room, the cooled oil clinging to my hair and skin still, said skin a blistering patch of agony as I awoke.

Another voice joins the chaos outside, and said chaos escalates, and through the haze I hear the sound of struggle, fighting, the physical kind, but it’s only background noice to the ringing in my ears.

“Leave, or I’ll drag you all out by your throats”

“She’s not worth your time, she’s not worth anyone’s time, she’s a broken thing you’d be better off discarding”

“Then why are you still here” Silence, say for the ringing and screaming in my ears.

Then there’s a knock, a faint, gentle knock on the door behind me.

“Estelle” My name, spoken so softly, so gently. “You can open the door, it’s safe” So soothing, so smooth, so calming.

I take a breath, and somehow it feels like the first in hours, days, and it comes out like a quivering sob.

“It’s just me outside the door, Eris and his brothers are gone” No rush, only encouraging calm. “You’re safe” The ringing in my ears fades just enough for me to process just _who_ is past this door, my memories drawing back to let reality become clearer.

Azriel, he’s behind this door, waiting for me to come out. He—he came for me.

I regain enough strength to rise, even as my legs quiver beneath me, I keep upright by clutching the door-handle with all my might, all that I am, all that remains of it. My hands are clammy as I clutch the lock, my fingers slipping, but through sheer will and the slow clearing of my head—the terror lingering in my blood like a poison still—I turn the lock and slowly open the door.

My eyes immediately lock in him, stood by the opposite wall, a fair distance away to give me space, hazel eyes watching me warily as I exit the bathroom.

He looks disheveled, his hair a mess, his clothes wrinkled, and the stains look to be blood, but despite that, I wouldn’t rather be met with the sight of anyone else. I open my mouth, but nothing comes out, nothing but a pained breath, my lips quivering, and I wonder if I truly have gone mute, if I truly have lost my voice to this silence.

For the first time in months, I wish it wasn’t the case, wish I could speak my mind and tell him how thankful I am to have him here, that he came for me as he promised, but when I do try, just a little, all that comes out is a pained sob, and when I let go of the door-handle to take a step towards him, my knees buckle beneath me and the floor becomes my destination instead.

Only that it doesn’t, because a pair of arms catch me, and a chest becomes a solid support for my head to cry against. Even though I should resist it, should pick myself up as I always do, this is all just too much, too much too fast, and his arms are so comforting, the sound of his raised heartbeat a soothing rhythm to my ears, so much better than the ringing and screaming and hateful laughter.

“You’re safe” He mumbles in my ear, his arms solidifying his grip on me by moving down to my waist, more comfortable than the under the arms grip he had. “They didn’t hurt you, did they” I shake my head into his chest, because the only injuries I’ve sustained are the ones to my knee and side as I fell down the stairs, becoming more apparent as the adrenaline and terror slowly fizzles out of me.

I don’t know how long it’s been by the time my legs feel solid again, how long I’ve spent in his embrace, a sensation so foreign to me, my memory unable to find a time when I was held before. I bring myself to stand on my own, though Azriel seems ready to catch me again should I need it, his eyes watching me warily and closely, stood only half an arms-length away.

_Safe._ He signs before me, and I meet his eyes, reaching up to wipe away the pesky tears staining my cheeks.

_Safe._ I sign back, and while it’s meek and shaky, I smile at him, the only way I can convey my gratitude, and he smiles right back.

Õ

Azriel sticks by my side as I go to get my things in my locker, my mind calmed enough to return to the calm indifference, but every sound makes my heart skip a beat, and I know I will never be able to walk these quiet halls and feel safe again.

The calm has caused me to feel embarrassed about the state he found me in, but he hasn’t questioned anything, not yet, he watches me with concerned eyes but says nothing. Not until my limp forms from my tumble down the stairs.

“You said they didn’t hurt you” He says, but by then I’ve reached my locker, and I leave him hanging while I sort out my things, the clock growing too close to four, work more important than what happened only minutes ago, to me at least.

_I fell down the stairs._ I sign as I lock the locker and move towards the exit. Azriel seems disturbed by this fact.

“Did they say what they wanted” I ignore him this time.

It’s too fresh to discuss, my composure is too fragile to start talking about it again, not yet, maybe tomorrow over coffee, but not now, not before I’ve had time to rebuild myself.

_Later._ I sign, and Azriel agrees to let it slide for now, and I limp my way to the exit alongside him.

“I only have one helmet, but I could drive you to work anyway, it isn’t far” He says as we exit the empty building, and I give him a questioning look. “I’d rather you took a day off after this, but I know that’s not an option for you” I look down at the snowy and icy path before us as Azriel guides me to his motorcycle.

_Thank you._ I sign, and he only nods in acknowledgment.

His bike is something alright, black and chrome and some highlights of white. Fancy but discreet. Azriel gets his helmet on and sits himself down, motioning for me to sit behind him, and during normal circumstances I would blanch at the thought of being that close to someone, but a part of me trusts Azriel, and I’ve already crossed that bridge with him. So I sit down behind him and loop my arms around his torso, and the bike barely makes a sound as it rolls off, as silent as Azriel himself. I can’t really question it, not from here, so I hold on tight until we reach the cafe and Azriel stops to drop me off.

_It’s quiet._ I comment, making my way towards the door of the establishment.

_Electric._ He signs back past his helmet. _Be safe._ Is the last thing he signs before silently rolling off to wherever it is he goes after school.

Considering his words during class, I assume the gym.

Mary looks both confused and worried as I limp through the door, though doing what I can to hide the worst of it. She also looks a little mocking, surely having seen the ride I got, but I ignore all that and head into the back to get changed and ready, may she think what she wishes.

Õ

The next morning I don’t linger in the halls, heading straight to homeroom as fast as my limp allows. To my surprise, Azriel is stood by the coffee machine when I arrive, one coffee already brewed while he waits for another to be done. I sit down at my usual desk and watch curiously as he takes both cups and brings one to me, wordlessly setting it down on my desk before he sits down by his own, shifting in his seat to face me.

“If you tell me what they wanted we can figure out how to permanently keep them away from you” I take the cup of coffee and have a few sips.

Last night had been hell, the bruises I suffered worked as a constant reminder of what happened both then and why it did, and little sleep came to me, and what little did was fitful and uneasy.

My composure has been restored now, but I don’t know if it’s enough to talk about it. But some risks have to be taken.

_They dug up things from my past._ Azriel says nothing for a moment. _The want to continue what was started._ He looks confused, but I won’t grant him any further clearance.

“There’s nothing in particular they want then” I shake my head.

_Just a plaything._ Azriel’s stoic and calm face shifts into that icy anger. _Why do you care._ Those icy eyes soften.

“Because you remind me of myself before Rhys came around” I hold his gaze. “Whatever your past entails, no one deserves to face it alone” I look down and sip on my drink. “I won’t try to find out what that past is, I promise” I smile, aware he could by pressing just a couple buttons, and glad he is respecting my boundaries.

_Thanks for the ride._ I sign. _And getting me out._ Because even though I sent that text, even though he said he’d come no matter when or where, a part of me did not believe it.

“I told you I would” I meet his hazel eyes.

_No one’s ever come to help me, they all just looked the other way._ A knowing and understanding look fills his eyes.

I question why I signed it, why I decided to do so, allow him this glimpse into my past, but he already knows parts due to yesterday, this is hardly more than a confirmation of what he already assumes.

“No one in the circle will look the other way, especially not me” I don’t know what to do with myself, so I nod and return my gaze to my coffee. But then a thought crosses my mind.

_Have you told the circle?_ He shakes his head.

“I wanted to speak with you before I said anything” I nod. “Should I?” I shake my head.

_I don’t want to be treated differently._ Pity is the last thing I want.

_They won’t, but I get it._ I smile.

Õ

“Your painting is really coming along Estelle” Feyre comments as she passes me to go get something from the supply cupboard. I turn her way and give her a gentle smile in answer. She stops and gives it a closer look, and even if it makes me a little uncomfortable, I could use whatever help she could give. “Some contrast between the light and dark could help, help with depth” I look at my painting, a landscape with distant mountains and a field of grass and flowers divided by a river and some trees here and there.

I see what she means, and I look to my paints, trying to figure out what colors to blend and whatnot.

“I’d say feel free to ask for help, but I don’t understand sign-language, I’m sorry” I shrug, at which she smiles. “Wonder why Azriel knows it… He knows a few languages but I didn’t expect sign-language” For once, I wish I had my notebook and pen with me, but I always leave that at work, ‘cause I never thought I’d need it in school, usually some sort of paper and pens around, but here are mostly paints and canvases. “Well, I’ll leave you to it” She says and continues on to get whatever she was going to get.

Õ

After psychology class I am surprised to find Azriel waiting outside my class, sat by one of the many sitting areas scattered about the school, his laptop in his lap, gloved fingers typing away. He notices me, evident by a slight shift of his eyes before they return to his screen and he presumably saves whatever he was working on. Then he closes his laptop and stuffs it in his shoulder-bag, standing and looking my way, his features as smooth and unreadable as always, the mask of unapproachability worn tightly, but I see the kindness behind it as I approach him, my limp almost gone, and he approaches me as well.

My fellow course-mates give me sidelong glances as they pass, only a couple other Night Court members, but even _they_ are glaring at Azriel and I, but one look from Azriel and they head off with their tails between their legs. The fact that the people around me fear me because of the people I surround myself with is a positive in the sense that wiser people keep from messing with me, fearing the repercussions.

_Walking me to lunch?_ I sign, and he takes a second to answer.

_They will be there._ This wave of dread washes over me, the events of yesterday hitting me over the head a little too hard for just a second before I compose myself, say for the hard thumping of my heart.

Fear is not a bad thing, it helps us know when to fight or when to run, but to show the enemy your afraid can always be used against you, thus I remain cool and collected, at least externally.

I nod and we both silently fall into step side by side, a good meter apart from one another As we pass people on their way to class, people with earlier lunches or just skipping, they deliberately avoid us, avoid Azriel. It’s something I don’t notice around Mor and Elain, not in the same way, but perhaps that’s because Mor talks so much, seems a little more inviting in some way. Azriel’s complete silence and general radiance of violent intent is a better deterrent than my sad attempts at invisibility.

Because Azriel chose to be feared. I chose to be afraid.

So I study his posture, the straight back, the cold eyes, the chin held straight because he doesn’t need to challenge anyone. He is the one in control of every situation, while my life has been a series of situations beyond my control in every way possible.

Then I mimic it, take my mask of silent indifference and unbothered calm meant to turn me into an invisible nobody and I mold it into one of cold and calculating awareness, turning my gaze into one that sends discomfort into the hearts of those who meet it, a gaze that makes you feel like I know your every secret, every insecurity and weakness. I read them like a book and show it, something I have only done in silence before, and on top of that I keep it bored, casual, like their presence doesn’t even matter, and I keep my posture straight and unfaltering, forcing my limp to become next to invisible.

I am strong, I am resilient, and nothing will brake me. My past does not define me, and my future is mine to shape.

It’s incredible how quickly the way those frightened eyes shift, because as they eyed Azriel before there was fear of _him_ , and when they eyed me afterwards it was fear _for_ me. They saw me as a pet of the Night Court, the new girl ensnared to the Lord of Night and his goons. But now as they look at me, there is uncertainty, they aren’t sure if they should fear me or fear for me anymore, aren’t sure what my place is in the High Lord of Night’s Circle.

Am I a plaything or a new threat to watch out for?

I used to be the latter, used to be strong enough to care for myself, fast enough to run and strong enough to fight back. Then I moved out by myself and my food intake shrunk, still remains the bare minimum, and my strength drained away. Then came the months at the hospital, and my body weakened further.

But I am regaining it slowly, and this mask will soon not be as much of a lie as it currently is. I refuse to be a plaything to anyone any longer, I will not relive Hybern here, I will stand up for myself as I used to in High-school when I really had to. Hybern will not win, not in the long-run. They won for a time, but the war is not over, and I will end up on top eventually, they’ll see.

We reach the lunch-hall and the path clears before us as we head for the line, grabbing a tray each and all that stuff. It’s this friend fish and mashed potatoes today, and I take a heap of it all onto my plate, including some salad to top it off, and a glass of milk. Can’t say no to free food, can you? Then we’re off towards the Circle’s table, and I spot the Vanserre brothers at one of the tables we pass, all watching us both with glares.

My heart races as my eyes meet Eris’s, the words he said whispering in my head, but I push it down and maintain my mask and hold his gaze for a few moments, my eyes promising pain, then I return my gaze forward and don’t look back. I note that Azzy took a slight step closer to me as we passed, but I don’t comment on it, set on eating this delicious food, and we both soon arrive at the table where Mor, Cass and Elain are already seated. I sit down by Elain, a spot that’s become my usual, my left shoulder in her direction, and Azriel sits down beside Cass, on the opposite side of the table from me.

Mor smiles at Azriel as he sits down, and he greets her with one of his own, just the faintest pink to his cheeks, but Cass butts in by giving him a greeting pat on the back.

“Playing bodyguard, brother? Or just enjoying her silence?” Azriel glares at Cass, and I do not let my mask falter, still too new to let it go, the mold needing to harden and set.

“She maintains conversation better than you do” Azzy mutters, granting laughter out of Mor and Elain, the latter's much fainter and polite. I dig into my food while they chat, no need or way for me to join.

Banter ensues, especially as Feyre and Rhysand deign to join, their clothes just a little disheveled, so you can imagine what they’d been doing prior.

I’m idly devouring my mountain of food—which Cassian commented on at some point, greeted by my silent stare before I proceeded to continue my devouring—when Elain bumps into my shoulder, moving to get up and head to class, I drop my silverware onto my plate and flinch away, mask splintering as my hand reaches up to shield my shoulder, eyes wide as I meet Elain’s.

Her hands go to her mouth, her eyes wide.

“I’m so sorry! Did I hurt you?” I school my breathing to calm, my heart beating rapidly in my chest. I shake my head.

She didn’t hurt me, but a mere touch is enough to tear me down. I look down at my meal, a part of me hoping it will stop them from staring, but I know it’s unsuccessful.

“You reacted the same last Friday… Is your shoulder alright?” I look to Mor, then to Azriel.

_Old injury._ The least I can say, perhaps they’ll avoid touching it more thoroughly. Azriel seems to get my look as inviting to share the information, and he turns to his friends.

“Old injury” That however, does not seem to make any of them any more at ease.

“Does it still hurt you?” Mor continues to pry, and I can tell everyone else were thinking the same thing. I shake my head and look down.

_Memories._ Azriel assumes his permit still stands.

“The memories do” I take my fork and knife and start eating again, spending the rest of lunch ignoring their prying eyes and eating until my tummy feels beyond full.

Õ

Friday grants me a few hours of free time, some of the teachers away on an educational trip, and if it weren’t for the piles of homework they left on us, I would have gone to the music room, but instead my destination becomes the library. It’s mostly empty, the majority of students deciding to go home rather than stick around school, but considering I have work after, it’s closer and smarter to stick around.

I recognize one to be Amren, huddled by a pile of books and actively typing away at her computer, and while Amren has hardly been a friendly character, is actually pretty terrifying, I decide to head her way. She can shoo me away if she wishes. Her silver eyes lift to observe me for just a moment as I sit down, then return to the screen. I deem it as good enough of an answer, so I sort out my things and start working.

“You’re brave to approach me, girl” I lift my gaze to her, but she isn’t looking at me. “I expected Nesta, but not sweet quiet Estelle, especially without her silent protector” Amren really isn’t one to sugarcoat, but I know she cares for the circle deep down, that might not transfer to me, but she wouldn’t harm me.

Perhaps it’s a test to see if I truly belong in this circle. If I can’t handle Amren then I definitely do not.

“Then again, I’ve seen a shift in your demeanor, so perhaps you aren’t as meek as you first seemed” Her eyes lift to mine, and I keep that new mask I’ve forged tightly on my features, the cold and calculating awareness and lack of care in the world. “If only you spoke, I’m curious what would come out of you spoke your mind freely” I smile a faint and amused smile.

_Wouldn’t you like to know._ I try to make it convey, and Amren’s answer is a slight smirk to her red lips.

“Maybe you aren’t a dove as Tallan said, but a swift and cunning hawk. Or an owl, mysterious, observant and deadly… Yes… Both could fit you…” Her eyes narrow, and I continue to hold her gaze tilting my head just a little.

That smirk widens for a moment, then she looks back at her work.

“Keep me company if you want” She says, and I get on with it.

Õ

In Amren’s silent company, I get a lot done, so much so that I get about one and a half hour of free time before I should go to work, so I get all my things sorted and head to the music room, a simple knock on the teacher’s door and I’m let inside, the grand piano greeting me in the center of the room.

I set my things down and sit myself down atop the stool, and I gently ease into the music. It fills the hall, grand and fluent and the one thing that has always granted me peace, my mind and body allowed to lose themselves in the tunes, to forget the troubles I can never escape and just live, if only for a moment.

That bliss is disturbed by the sound of my phone buzzing, and as I pull myself out of the music I expect to find a text from my boss or Mary, but the pop-up reads Azriel. I type my way to his message and frown faintly as I read it.

_Still in school?_ I quickly type my response.

_Yes, why?_ I almost immediately see those dots popping up.

_I’m sick of Rhys and Cass flirting with the_ _youngest_ _and_ _eldest_ _of the Archeron sisters, care for my company?_ I stare at that text for a moment.

_Why not find Mor or Amren? Elain even._ I know it’s harsh of me, but this is my moment of solitude, of blissful ignorance. Yet when those dots pop up, I feel bad. Azzy is my friend, I’ve come to realize, as close to one as I can bare to have, at least, his circle bonus acquaintances, and I should really value the trust we have more.

_Mor took an early weekend, Elain is hiding somewhere with Lucien, and Amren would probably flay me alive if I disturbed her studying._ A lot of words via text, much more than he usually deigns to say aloud, but I guess I write more than I speak as well, did so even before I swore to never speak again.

_She didn’t flay me._ I type. _In fact, I think I gained her respect._ The dots linger on his end for a while.

_You approached her?_

_Spent two hours in the library with her._

_Alright, well, should I leave you be?_ I take a look around the room, the large, quiet and perfect room for my escape.

_I’m in the music room._ I type. Let him decide if it’s an invitation or not.

Assuming he’s a little ways away, I continue my idle playing, stringing cords together at random, just to practice them all, and occasionally making some melody on the fly with my right hand as the left works the cords.

Then there’s a knock at the door, and I stop playing before said door opens, Azriel stepping through. He has a lot of stuff with him, two helmets and that shoulder bag of books and all his school stuff he often carries around. He spots my pile and sets his things down by it, then approaches me by the piano.

“Didn’t know you played” He states as he arrives, my fingers running over the white ivory keys as I consider what to answer.

_It’s been my escape._ I watch Azriel study one of his gloved hands in the corner of my eye, something cold entering his eyes.

“I played guitar when I was young, before Rhys” Before his life took a turn for the better.

_Why did you stop?_ His hand balls into a fist and falls limp at his side.

“The gloves make it difficult” I let my eyes watch those gloves a moment longer, seeing how they can be restricting, clumsy, but he manages typing on his laptop just fine, what’s the difference…

What’s behind the gloves is… Just like what happened made singing a thing of the past as much as it did talking. After all that screaming and pleading I wanted nothing to do with my voice anymore, much like my view of my body in general. After what happened to his hands he wants nothing to do with them either, only the bare minimum something he can bare.

_I used to sing, before the silence._ I admit, only because he gave me a glimpse into his past, it’s only fair I give him one as well, even if last week I would have deemed that thought ridiculous.

But this couple weeks with Azriel and his friends… It’s truly done something… Changed things in me, for the better, I think.

“You weren’t born mute” A statement more than a question, but I shake my head.

_I’ve been silent for so long that I’m not sure I could speak if I tried._ Azriel watches me for a moment, cogs turning I his head.

_You’re not mute at all._ I look down at the piano.

_Not medically._ But I almost screamed my vocal cords to shreds, another reason I had to stay silent at first, only a catalyst to my prolonged oath of silence.

“I’ll assume you have good reason” I look up at him, only silent understanding in his eyes. “Could you play something for me? I’ll drive you to work as payment” I narrow my eyes at him.

_Buying my friendship?_ He smiles softly.

“You’re the one who started the coffee thing” I smile back.

_You didn’t protest._ He shrugs, then motions at the piano.

“Please?” I look down at those keys and consider my options.

With a sigh of defeat, I set my hands atop the keys, my foot atop the petal, and I start playing.

It’s not the hopeful and dreaming piece I only reserve to myself, too dear to my broken heart to be shared, too personal to let him hear, but I let him hear one of my other most beloved pieces of classical music, one that too has a way to instill this sense of hope for better days, and he silently listens at my side, only moving to get a stool.

“You’re good” He says as I finish the piece, and I meet his gaze, pushing down the nervous shaking to my hands, fine since it’s just him, much like I’m fine with the teacher listening in.

_I’m sure you’d be good at guitar._ He looks skeptical as he looks towards the mounted guitars on the wall.

“I have my doubts” He flexes his fingers a little before they return to fists, as if they ache to try, but he cannot bring himself to. I know I shouldn’t ask, much for the same reason he doesn’t ask about what’s happened to me, yet I sign.

_What’s happened to your hands?_ He watches me coldly for a moment so coldly I instantly regret asking, and I try to convey as much with my eyes.

“What’s happened to your shoulder” The cold lines even his voice, and I flinch just a little, getting the point.

_Forget I asked._ I sign and set my hands back on the piano, making a gentle melody. There are a few moments where neither of us speak, the soft tune the only sound in the room.

“Still up for the gym Saturday” I stop my idle playing and look his way.

_I only have more reasons to after what happened._ He nods, eyes going to the floor, something lethal filling his gaze.

“Yeah… I’m sure Cassian would love to teach you some self-defense, basic hand to hand” His eyes return to me to see my answer.

_I know the how, but my strength is lacking these days._ I look at my arms, like twigs beneath the blouse, my legs the same in the tights and skirt.

“Do you eat a lot?” I sigh.

_As much as I afford._ I would expect pity in his eyes, expect him to shun me for the blatant admitting of my poor and pathetic life, but all I see is concern. _My biggest meal is lunch._

“I’ve noticed you don’t hold back at lunch, no matter the food”

_Nesta was right, some can’t be picky._ Azriel only looks sad, not for me alone, but for the subject in general, that some can’t eat as much as they’d like, and need. My shame must have been written on my face, as Azriel speaks.

“No one in the Circle would judge you, most of us come from less than ideal situations, Nesta and her sisters were far from well off for a while, until Feyre got a way to sell her art, but it’s not my stories to tell” I nod, relieved to hear as much.

Õ

Mary gives me another of those suggestive smirks as I enter the café, Azriel already off on his silent and awesome motorcycle, and I blatantly ignore her and head inside to change and get my dinner. Then hours of work ensue, and I spend it mostly cleaning rather than brewing, but it passes the time all the same.

Õ

Saturday morning comes around, and I set my alarm at nine just to make sure I have the time to go about my routine before Azriel whisks me away to the gym. It goes much like last week, chores and cleaning and some homework, along with a slightly bigger lunch than usual, then I sort out a bag of workout gear and set it by the door, then comes the waiting for Azriel to text me.

I consider doing the cream to my skin now, before the workout, but I realize being around people will be the last thing I’ll want if I do, so I abandon that idea and tend to smaller things around the house, sit down and sketch some things, animals, dragons, humans, until finally, at about four, my phone buzzes.

_I’ll be at your place in around ten._ I gather my supplies and set them on the coffee table, then stand, heading towards the door to get ready.

_You’re lucky I packed ahead of time._ I send as I tug on my coat

_I figured you would._ I tie on my shoes, then put on my mittens and swing my bag over my right shoulder.

_I’ll meet you at the parking lot._ No answer, so I assume he’s left his place to head to mine.

I lock the door behind me and head down the flights of stairs, squinting at the cold wind today has brought and head to the parking lot. It’s already kind of dark out, the sky a dim blue, the first star already peaking past the clouds. I barely notice as Azriel pulls up, his ride only letting off a slight buzz, which is barely audible above the wind. Which is why I’m startled as I look down, only to find him parked before me, a spare helmet under his arm. He motions at me to take it, and I do, putting it on much like the day before, and I wordlessly sit down behind him, wrapping my arms around his torso to not get flung off as he gets rolling. The streets pass in a blur of lights, until we reach the gym and Azriel flawlessly parks in an empty spot, and I sit off, take off my helmet and look around the place.

I spot Cass’s truck, so he’s here, but I don’t recognize any of the other vehicles, so I turn to Azriel, whom he too removes his helmet and sorts out everything with his bike. Then he steps off and starts walking towards the establishment, with me following right beside him.

The heat is instant as we step through, and Azriel takes me to the reception and initiates the conversation with the receptionist.

“She’d like a month free trial card” The woman looks to me and smiles.

“I’ll need you to sign a paper” She says as she pulls out one from one of the cupboards, then slides it my way atop the counter.

I grab the pen from the pen stand and begin with my name. Azriel keeps himself busy with other things, the plant by the door apparently interesting as I file in my social security numbers, date of birth, full name, phone number and address, but I’m sure he takes a peak at some point, as his eyes are set on the receptionist as I hand the paper over to her, letting her double check that everything is in order.

“Great, the card will be sent to your mailbox within the next few days, but you may head inside today along with your friend none the less, have a good workout!” She smiles, and I deign to smile back just a little, then head to what I assume are the changing rooms alongside Azriel.

We stop before the two doors, one reading men, the other reading women.

“Get changed, I’ll be out here to guide you to the workout floor” I nod and head into the changing area.

It’s a lot fuller than I’d prefer, so I retreat to the bathroom and change in there, which I do swiftly, then head out and pick a locker to store my bag and clothes in, locking it with the designated key and putting it in the small pocket in my pants. With my hair put up in a ponytail as the last detail, I head out the door, Azriel stood beyond it, changed and ready, and with only a shared glance at one another, he begins heading for the door down the hall, and I follow after him.

The main area is large, and very populated, the sound of weights being lifted and treadmills being ran clear and loud. Azriel guides me to a side room though, still connected to the large one, but the machines a little more secluded. And there is the Circle, well, at least Mor, Feyre, Rhys and Cass, the two ladies chatting as they warm up on the treadmills, the other two apparently having a bench press competition. They notice us, and the chatting and competing ceases to give us attention.

“Glad you could make it Estelle” Rhys says, wiping sweat off his brow with a towel.

“Great to have you” Mor says, stepping of the treadmill. “Hope Azzy’s not driving like a madman with you” Azzy steps away to the guys, leaving me at Mor’s mercy.

“Az wouldn’t make a lady uncomfortable, he’s too much of a charmer” Cassian mocks, and Azriel proceeds to punch his shoulder.

“Let’s not fight, unless it’s a boxing match” Feyre coos, stepping off the treadmill as well. The thought of boxing sounds fun, now that she mentions it, it's been a while.

“Looks like someone’s curious about boxing” Cassian says with a smirk on his lips. “Common, let’s go to the punching bags, unless you guys have other things in mind” He looks to his friends.

“I’m up from boxing” Rhys says, Azriel nods his agreement.

“I want to do some muscle… but you guys can take her to it and me and Feyre can work these glutes” She looks to Feyre, who nods her approval. “Take care of her boys, we’ll stop by soon” And then I’m whisked away to another side room, decked with punching bags and gloves and mitts.

The boys instantly find their sizes, but I take a little longer to find the right ones for me, and by the time I do, Azriel and Rhys have already paired up, leaving Cassian with a pair of mitts, grinning as he meets my gaze.

“Think I’ll do as a partner for now?” I nod and walk up to him. “Have you done this before?” I nod again and take the stance I remember from way back. “Alright, I can tell you have” He readies for my punch. “Bring it” And I punch.

By the mother, I’m weak, but Cassian, kind as he is, does not comment on that, only commenting on my form, which apparently is decent, though a little wavering considering my lack of strength. It feels freeing to do this, like an outlet of built up anger in me, but when I realize that it’s boiling over to the point of showing in a few moments, I step back and move for my water bottle, sitting down on the bench, taking a breather.

“You’ve got technique, but not the strength” Cassian sits down beside me, the bench buckling a little at his weight. “I assume you used to have muscle” I nod faintly and down a few chugs of water, sighing at the cold sensation as it travels down my throat. “We all have our stories, don’t we” He sighs, then stands. “I’ll do some punching on one of the dummies, feel free to do the same, or ask Rhys or Azriel to, but I guess Az would be the only one who’d understand” He plays it off as a joke, and I smile a little at the humor.

I head for the punching bag after some time of winding down, and I start to idly get some punches in, careful to keep the stance right and all that, even as my muscle groan in complaint. At some point, there’s a shift, a slight change in myself, and the punches become harder, fueled by this inner rage that I just let boil over, the punching bag turning into Dagdan, then Brannagh, then Eris and his brother’s.

Then myself, with the stark burns and scars and changes I despise, and I just keep punching.

Until a gloved hand grips my wrist and I whirl, my body shaking as I lock eyes with Azriel, shaking with pent up rage and frustration, though luckily no tears have slipped out. Only rage, only hate.

_Hurting yourself doesn’t help anything._ I simply stare.

How he sees, knows, I don’t understand, but perhaps he’s done the same, fused his rage into his fighting and hurt himself in the process, lost himself to the rage.

I take a couple deep breaths, my shaking slowly easing, and he lets go of my wrist, the arm falling limp at my side. Then I look to the punching bag, and gone is my own disgusting body, _their_ disgusting shapes. It’s just leather and whatever they stuff it with, and I must keep it that way and fizzle the rage out slowly, lest I’ll tear myself down more than rebuild, lest I’ll remain that terrible thing I despise myself for being.

Weak, disgusting and unappealing.

No one will ever love me, just like no one ever has before all this happened. I will never love myself, but maybe someday I’ll learn to accept the fact that I am the way I am.

Õ

“You know, I’ve always wondered how you get your hair that perfect shade of blonde” Mor says as we walk into the changing room, as if her hair isn't the perfect shade of gold blonde. “It might be rude to ask, but I am curious” This time I brought a notebook to answer possible questions with, and while Feyre and Mor start changing I write my answer, then hand it to Mor.

“Oh! You’re a Seraphim! Makes sense, I almost forgot some of them have that awesome self-bleaching hair” She returns the notebook. “I don’t need to bleach mine, this is all natural, but it’s cool to know” Her eyes go to my clothing, still firmly on me. “Now what’s with the long-sleeved workout clothes, I have to agree with Cassian, it looks uncomfortably hot” Feyre gives Mor a look.

“Doesn’t that sound a little rude, Mor” Mor looks to Feyre.

“I’m just wondering! She doesn’t have to answer if she doesn’t want to” I grab my bag with clothes and move towards the bathroom. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to offend you or anything!” I wave off her concern and lock myself in the bathroom.

Normally, I would be smart and use the gym’s water to save money, but I’m not comfortable showering with the other’s here, so I’ll save that for when I get home. I have to put on the cream after all. So, I change into my clothes, washing myself off a little in the sink, then head out to the others and get on my outside wear. If they have comments about my lack of showering, they don’t say, much like they haven’t commented on my behavior in school, so that’s nice.

Eventually, we head out to meet the boys in the reception, and not to my surprise, Mor taking ages in the shower, they’re all waiting for us.

“I was beginning to worry one of you'd slipped in the shower” Rhys says in his smooth and teasing tone, with just a little flirt to it that seems to be his natural state of being around Feyre.

Feyre rolls her eyes and Mor flips her hair, meanwhile I sign to Azriel.

_If everyone spent as much time in the shower as Mor, the oceans would dry up._ He snorts, and the faintest pink reaches his cheeks.

A part, a very strong part of me, does not want to know what he is thinking about, but the overly observant one knows exactly what’s running through his head.

_I’ll drive you home._ I nod, smiling softly.

“Well, let’s not linger, I’m spent and ready to head to bed” Feyre announces, stretching her arms above her head and heading for the exit. Rhys whispers something flirtatious in her ear that sends her blushing and heading for that door a little faster, and Rhys smirks as he follows her.

Mor groans at the display and heads after them.

“You’ll drive me home, right Cass” He gives her a thumb up and follow her out the door, me and Azriel in tow.

I note a slight sheet of ice across his features as he watches Mor and Cassian walk side by side, laughing and joking as they head for Cass’s truck, but I decide to pretend not to see. Azriel hands me his spare helmet and I silently accept it, just as A black car stops before both Az’s bike and Cass’s truck. The window rolls down and Rhysand reveals himself as the owner.

“Could one of you tell mom I won’t be home for a while? So, she doesn’t call or something” Cass and Azriel both nod, and Rhysand gives them both a thumbs up before rolling off.

“They’re so gonna find some quiet place to screw” Cass says as he opens up the door to his truck.

“Oh they so are” Mor agrees and opens her side. “See you guys later!” She says to me and Azzy before getting inside, and Cass gives us a wave before doing the same.

“Get on” Az says, with such cold it takes me aback, and I swiftly get my helmet on and sit down behind him, my grip a little loser around him as he rolls off.

I get off at the parking lot of my complex soon enough, my arms feeling like noodles as I take off my helmet and hand it to Azriel. I sign thanks, but he just nods and takes the helmet, his face unreadable past his own. Yet I can feel that something’s off with him, but not one to pry, usually, I simply wave a goodbye and head to my apartment complex, hearing the buzzing of his motorcycle as he leaves.

Whatever is up between him, Mor and Cassian, it clearly affects him negatively, but I don’t know enough about the situation to make any assumptions, nor can I really ask anyone. So I head to my apartment and get into the shower, get that sorted then mentally prepare to face the battle that is my burns.

By the end of the day, all I want is to disappear into the bliss of sleep, though I make sure to set my alarm before letting my head hit the pillow.

Õ

Monday morning, after a cramped ride to school, I reach homeroom, Azriel there as always, nose deep in a book. He doesn’t acknowledge my arrival, but I go on with the routine as always, brewing him and I both a coffee each. As I set the paper cup down atop his desk, I hear him grumble something that sounds like thanks, and I continue to my own desk and pull up my computer, continuing the story I need to write for creative writing class, no harm in being ahead. Especially since Azriel seems inclined to not engage any conversation today, rather down in the dumps, the cold frozen solid in his eyes to hide whatever turmoil is going on within. I respect his wishes of silence today and get to writing.

Not all days can be good days.

The circle arrives at their usual time, greeting me with hi and hello, which I answer with polite waves, but I leave to my own class before they can string me into any conversation, making my way through the halls towards my class. The few who are here at this hour avoid my path, that wariness clear in their eyes as they watch me, watch the new mask I’ve made to keep them at bay, and I am quite happy with the result.

My mask isn’t fake, not quite, once upon a time I would harm those who dared oppose me, dared tease or make fun of me, something that gave me quite the reputation in my younger years. But as I got older I didn’t want to pick fights anymore, the family I lived with at the time not afraid to punish me when the school called in complaints, so I stopped fighting, but my reputation helped keep people at bay, and I eventually achieved near perfect invisibility.

Until high-school in Hybern, when Dagdan and Brannagh made it their mission to make my life a living hell, which continued into College.

So, my mask isn’t fake, not completely, but honestly, after all this time, all my years of anger, eventual walls and current cold and shattered pieces, I don’t know what’s true anymore, what’s me. If I ever piece myself back together again, the person it makes won’t be like anyone I’ve ever been, and perhaps that’s a good thing.

But if I remain broken, how long will I be able to hold on?

When will I cross the line, and end up where there’s no return?

How long will the fear keep me from giving up?

Dangerous questions, ones I do not want answered, nor wish to dwell on, I spent enough time in the hospital contemplating this, whether I’d matter if I finished what they started myself, spent enough time watching that balcony until the nurses noticed and removed the option for me.

It was never resolved, but if I never consider it again, it does not need to be.

The day passes in a blur, music class my only highlight, Azriel making a point not to give me his time of day, which really doesn’t matter, if he doesn’t want to speak, I won’t push it. Work is the same, as he arrives and gets his coffee, but he doesn’t linger, ordering a takeaway mug and disappearing as fast as he came, not even bating me an eye, and fine, he can be that way, I don’t care.

Yet when I get home, I feel a little emptier than on a usual evening, the kind of emptiness I was used to before I met Azriel and his Circle, that was a part of my everyday life, caused by the walls I use to keep the consuming anger and self hatred at bay, but now… The emptiness feels wrong, dangerous, and I’d much rather let the anger flow as I did at the gym, smile as I do with Azriel, than this numbing emptiness.

Õ

The emptiness lingers the next day, only amplified by Azriel’s absence from homeroom and the lonely coffee I treat myself with, the warmth of the liquid meant to sooth the numbing cold that’s starting to settle in, but barely leaves a dent. Mor and Elain’s bright company doesn’t help much either, perhaps a little, but not enough to bring me out of this pit I’ve found myself in, perhaps nothing more than a slight rebound due to the questions I was stupid enough to ask myself, nothing I can’t handle, nothing I can’t push through… Yet… I never did the last time, not truly.

Lunch should be pleasant, everyone, including Azriel, chatting about whatever, but no, it just isn’t.

Why did I allow me a taste of joy? Only to fall right back into the dark of despair with its taunting taste on my tongue? Why am I even down here? What pushed me here? Was I always here? Just didn’t know the difference before I got shoved back down again? More questions I shouldn’t be bothering with, no point to dwell, but I can’t seem to stop. I get through work either way, which is what matters really.

Wednesday passes as it does, Gym class spent with Mor today, Az picking Cass, and after class I don’t linger in the shower, getting my things and going to work without looking back, not chancing it.

On Thursday, art with Feyre is fine, I guess, but the bright and pretty landscape I’m working on feels like a slap in the face compared to the dark and dull thoughts lingering at the edges of my mind, gathering and growing louder. I barely touch it, scared I’ll ruin it with my gloom, leaving me with two hours to simply ponder.

I had coffee this morning with Azzy, but it still wasn’t quite enough to bring me out of this, because I got this distinct feeling that he didn’t want to be around me, in fact, I don’t feel like anyone wants to be around me, and why would they? No one in my life has ever willingly stuck around, why would this be different, why did I let myself hope this would be different?

I’ll never be loved or cared for in this life, I don’t deserve it, so why try to be? I’m better of alone without the thought of friendship taunting me.

When Saturday rolls around, Azriel asks if I want to come along to the gym, and the only reason I agree is because of the gym card I’ve signed for, but when he comes and picks me up, I engage in no banter, don’t try to connect with any of them as I get into the complex, dressed and ready, instead getting a pair of boxing gloves and start punching.

I feel the anger trickle past the walls, fueling my blows, and I embrace the feeling, better than the numbness, and clearing my head just a little.

Because the cold isn’t good, I realize, it has never been good. The only times in my life I ever felt less than worthless or hopeless was when hatred guided me or I let myself feel just a sliver of joy in my day to day life, when I let myself feel, even if it wasn’t always something I showed.

I realize the hatred wasn’t healthy, but it kept me alive, and while the joy came with the cost of truth, it was always worth it.

Running from my past will never get me anywhere, ignoring it will never let me move on… Only the truth will set me free from the cage I’ve made myself. Only the truth will let me accept what’s happened to me, let me move past it and truly begin to piece myself together. Let me walk the path towards winning the fight once and for all.

When Azriel drives me home, I bid him goodnight, bringing a faint smile to my lips, because I know what I must do, what will ultimately decide whether I truly will go through with my plan, this terrifying plan that might brake me before it does anything positive. I almost abandon this plan as I tend to the burns, but when I let my head hit the pillow, I have decided that nothing will break me, only I can decide what brakes me.

Õ

Monday passes as it normally does, beginning with coffee in the morning, Azriel and I discussing some of our assignments, nothing much, just pleasant chatting, or signing, and I tell him a little about the story I’m crafting, which he seems genuinely interested by.

During lunch, I bring myself to listen to their conversations, even smiling from time to time, adding something that Azriel is kind enough to convey for me, he personally out of his pit, for the most part.

I’m glad to see it, truthfully.

And I realize I should have asked, tried to be there as he has continuously tried to be for me, even if he doesn’t know me that well.

I should have been better.

Music class is the highlight of my day, spent playing idly on the piano, until my teacher finds me some music sheets to read, giving me some new challenges which I spend some time working through. It’s at the end of that class that he announces that those teachers who didn’t go to the course last Friday will do so next Monday, and its then that my plan is set into motion.

I write a note asking the teacher if he can somehow let me into this classroom anyways, and he says he’ll leave the keys in the break room, and that I can just go ahead and grab it, if I put it back. And from there, the week passes slowly, Azriel focusing on his studies, a test coming up in one of his classes, so I let him be, spending most my time around Mor or Elain, which is nice I guess.

Gym class is spent with Azriel, and he comments that I’ve gotten better, then offers to drive me to work due to how destroyed my legs are after, and I silently accept the invitation, thanking him with a smile.

Thursday is fine, art-class fine enough, and I manage to get those colors I’ve been missing onto my piece, and Feyre’s compliment on my work really makes something feel warm inside me, pushes me out of that pit just a little, though I still feel that numbness from time to time, and I wonder if that’s just something I’ll always have to deal with now and then, if happiness is something I want at some point.

Friday is its normal boring self, and Saturday is full of chores and eventually leaves me drained after doing some boxing at the gym, along with some running for cardio, speed something I need, and endurance.

Sunday is work, and Feyre and her sisters, along with Mor pay me a visit, and I spend my brake seated with them as they discuss the coming spring and all the tests they’ll have to do before summer sets them free.

Then comes Monday, and while it starts off normally, a coffee with Azzy to keep me going, I know as I leave to my creative writing’s class that it will not be a normal day.


	4. To face your demons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first step is always the hardest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I take the freedom of giving the gang modern interests, I hope they fit fine.

The key to the music room is simple enough to find, but unlocking that door turns out to be the hard part, my hands shaky, despite how hard I try to remain calm and composed. Because what I’m about to do is the one thing I never thought I’d ever consider, but after a month here, and four months since I chose to let Hybern win, I’ve decided that the fight isn’t over, not if I refuse to be beat.

I get through the door and sigh as I take in the empty space, soundproof and perfect, the windows wide and open, letting in the light, making the room open and airy, no feeling of entrapment here. Looking to the clock, I realize I have ten minutes before his last class ends, so I take a seat at the grand piano and take a couple deep breaths before I let my fingers hit those keys.

The song I composed, so long ago, during a time when I still held on to hope, still dared believe there would be a light at the end of my long and gloomy tunnel, before High-school began to tear my spirit to shreds. Dream, I called it, because this song was an accumulation of my hopes and dreams, composed into a song where they’d always remain immortalized, even through the darkest of times. It’s never left me, the hope within has never faltered, but today I play this song not with sadness and longing in my heart, but with uncertainty and fear, yet determination at the core of it all.

Because I will do this, if only this one time, will face my demons and take back my life, and I pray to the mother that it won’t be dismissed by the one person I’ve dared trust, if only a little. Hope he’ll take this as an opportunity to face his demons alongside me, hope he will let me grant him the aid he has silently been giving me, even though I never asked for it.

As the song reaches its end, I pull out my phone and send the text that will either make or break this spur of confidence.

 _The music room._ I hit send and wonder if I perhaps should be a little more specific, but I need to see if that day wasn’t just a onetime thing, so I stand and make my way to the window, surprised to find it unlocked. I open it up, letting in some of the cool winter air, if only to sooth the nervous sweat beginning to coat me.

I wonder as I stand there, waiting for Azriel to either enter through those doors behind me, or text me back, wonder what would have happened if I did go to that balcony that night, did rise from that sickbed and give in to the despair that held me so tightly in its grasp back then, still tugs me down towards that abyss even now.

Who would have cared? Would anyone even have noticed I’d left?

My parents surely wouldn’t, they left me behind years ago, and my foster families were always glad to see me gone. I never made friends, made myself invisible or hated.

No one would have cared back then, but now… If Azriel walks through that door, I’ll have confirmation that someone—if only one person—would give at least a partial damn, and that alone would be enough to help myself cling harder to the edge of this abyss, hold on long enough to maybe make my way up and over, to a new life, one that is mine, one I will never let anyone toy with and break.

My cheeks have reddened by the chill as I hear that door click open, near silent footsteps entering the quiet room.

I let out the breath I’d been holding as the minutes ticked by, and I let my eyes glance to the reflection of him in the window. It’s hard to tell, but he looks confused. With a sigh, I close the window and step back, but I don’t dare face him, not yet.

“Is everything alright?” He questions, and I know I have to figure this out right now or bail completely. I turn and face him, noting the distance he’s put between us.

 _I’ve realized something._ He raises an eyebrow. _You don’t have to care, I don’t expect you to, much like I’ve never expected people to care for me beyond the obligation to keep me alive._ The confusion shifts into something pained.

I take a deep breath.

 _But I have realized something, have been working to figure it out this past week, and..._ I pause my signing, looking down at the wooden floor. _I’ve realized that the only way to move on from the pain, learn to live despite it is to face the demons that I’ve worked so hard to outrun… and you can’t face something if you pretend they don’t exist, nor can you ever outrun them, because they’re as much a part of you as everything else._

Azriel silently processes the words I signed, did my best to make as clear as possible. I give him a moment before I continue.

 _I know you have demons too, can tell they’re not much different from my own, and if I trust you with mine, would you trust me with yours?_ His gaze shifts to the floor, hands clenching.

I swallow down the lump in my throat and open my mouth, praying to the mother, the cauldron—whatever god watches over this world—that the words I wish to speak come out.

“ _Azriel_ ” It’s hoarse and weak, barely a whisper, but he hears, his head perking up, eyes wide as they lock onto me.

“You…” He seems to be in chock. I sigh and take a couple steps towards him, trying to clear my throat.

“ _Please_ ” So pathetic, but it seems to snap him out of his stun.

“Estelle… My demons… You shouldn’t have to deal with them” I hold his gaze.

 _No one deserves to face it alone. You told me that._ He looks to the side. _Let’s face it together._ Azriel looks conflicted.

“I… I don’t know what you think, but I… I don’t think of you like-” I stop him before he can continue.

“ _I know_ ” He looks to me. _I know, and that’s not what I’m asking. I ask nothing of you, just that you let me help you as you’ve been helping me._ He holds my gaze.

“Okay” It’s hesitant, but I would have been too, if he’d been the one to approach me, if he’d been the one to suggest this path.

And now the sharing of truths begins.

“ _Search…_ ” My voice breaks, and I resort to signing. _Search up Estelle Dreever._ He watches me warily as I make my way towards the piano, starting to play to relieve myself of the stress and nerves.

“ _Shit_ ” He breathes, a hand running through his hair as his eyes glance my way. I meet that glance, expecting pity like everyone else, but it’s sympathy, empathy even. That hand in his hair goes over his left shoulder on its way down to his side, and I feel it like a phantom touch atop my own skin.

 _I swore to never speak again after that night._ I sign, lifting my hands from the keys as he slowly approaches, taking a stool on his way here. _I’m ready to keep fighting again, ready to face the truth, but not alone, as you said, no one deserves to face things alone, nor should they._

“You were burnt… Raped…” I swallow down the bile rising in my throat, push down the tears from my eyes. “And no one got caught” I look to the floor.

_I remember every second, they kept me awake for as long as they could._

_Do you know who did it?_ I nod.

_But there’s no proof ether way, they left no trace, everything planned weeks in advance._

“Why?” I can’t help the rouge tear from slithering down my cheek.

“I’ve asked that… All my… Life” I lift my gaze and meet his, still no pity, only silent understanding and empathy. “Your hands…” He looks down, down at said hands, cradle them in his lap, an empty look so like the one I harbor when I’m forced to face the sight behind my blouse.

“My brothers dipped my hands in a pot of boiling oil, the kitchen was making fried stuff or something” My eyes widen for just a second. “The next day… I went to school and my teacher noticed I wasn’t using them, forced my gloves off… Child protective services were called and… Rhys’ mother volunteered to take me in just as she did Cass” I listen intently as he speaks, soaking up the information he is giving. He looks up at me. “That was over ten years ago, you…” He trails off as he looks to my shoulder.

I know exactly what he’s going to say.

“Time… doesn’t… Matter” _An old wound and a new wound are both still wounds, both deserving of care. My psychology teacher taught me that._ Azriel smiles faintly.

“What a wise teacher” I smile too, despite the glistening tears in my eyes.

“I’m sorry…” _If my text scared you, I needed to know if you truly would come if I called._

“I told you I would”

“No one… I’ve never had someone… To rely on…”

“Your family…” I shake my head.

_Gave me up when I was three, grew up bouncing between foster homes until College in Hybern, when I decided to live alone._

“If only Rhys’ mother would have found you… She’d taken you in without question” I shrug.

“Dwelling on If’s is… pointless… I’ve always… chosen to… dream…. Of a better future… Clung to it… Until I… chose to run” Every word hurts, my throat aching already, but I’m out of practice, I can only get better if I keep trying.

“I knew you were a dreamer” Azriel says, a smile spreading to his lips. “Knew you belonged in the Circle” I smile.

“I’ve never… Belonged before”

“Well, you do now” Azriel straightens in his seat. “I won’t tell them anything” I smile a little wider.

“Thank you… For everything”

“To the stars that listen, Estelle” He grins a little at that, and I do too, knowing my name alone means star, but I am too intrigued by his words to bother any further. “And the dreams that are answered”

“To the stars… that listen…” _And the dreams that are answered._

Õ

That night, I fall asleep feeling lighter than ever, broken, but lighter, and the next day, I enter homeroom with a smile on my face, met by one from Azriel as well, a steaming coffee waiting on my desk. I sit down and have a sip, clearing my throat before attempting a few words of greeting.

“Good morning” Shaky and weak, but clear enough to be heard. I watch Azriel’s smile widen just a little.

“Good morning” He sips on his drink, and I watch as the smile fades to cautious contemplation. I give him a look meant to encourage him to ask whatever it is he’s thinking. “Why did you decide to go quiet” I look down at my desk.

“The screaming… Tore my cords” I sigh as said cords fail me. _I had to stay quite all my bedrest, and I’d already mostly kept quiet anyways, so I decided to never open my damn mouth again, as mouthing off against someone was what started everything._ It makes my heart ache to admit this, makes my walls crack and crumble around me, and I wipe away a stray tear as Azriel silently processes everything.

“My mother wasn’t supposed to speak, she was a servant in my father’s home” I silently wait for him to work through this truth he wishes to share. “She taught me sign language to speak with me, even on hours I wasn’t allowed to see her”

“One family… had a mute kid” I clear my throat, try to wash the pain away with some coffee, but I decide to just sign. _She taught me, so we could speak. My stay there was short, her parents a nightmare, but she was at least decent in that sea of terrible._

“How many families did you stay at?” I start counting on my fingers, but quickly realize I lack fingers.

“I stopped… Counting after ten” _I stayed at most for half a year, because the contracts said so, and no one wanted to permanently adopt._ I sigh and look to the side. _I can’t blame them, I was... difficult, angry. But one family put me in my place._ Azriel frowns. _The dad had a lot of belts he liked to use._ Azriel cringes ever so slightly.

“I’m sorry… My father wasn’t much better either, my brothers the worst though”

“I’m sorry too”

Õ

With Azriel’s frequent company now, and my slow thawing to the Circle, the weeks pass by, my pieces still a jumbled mess, but getting better, lining up slowly but surely. Azriel and I set up a payment plan for the gym card, I reluctantly agreeing to let him pay half the cost, bringing it down to only twenty-five a month, which is within my budget at enough of a margin that I don’t starve should I get hurt.

Before I know it, the week of sports brake, as school calls it, though few ever really do sports during it, is just a couple days away, and the Circle and I—, no, just the Circle—are sat at the lunch table, most of them—which means everyone but me—are discussing this lodge in the north that they’re going to over the break, to ski and whatnot. I already know I can’t, my schedule at work even busier to gather money for the possible break I might want in the future, so my clear no in the form of my shaking head is rehearsed as Mor looks to me and asks if I want to come with.

“Aw common, Estelle! It’ll be fun!” I’m surprised to see most of them disappointed, say for Amren and Nesta who look as gloriously unbothered as always, but I know that’s not meant to be insulting.

“If you’re worried about costs, I assure you there’s no pay needed” Rhys tries to coax me into it, but I shake my head apologetically his way. I sign my more precise answer for Azriel to translate, not quite ready to reveal my deceit to them all just yet.

“She has work” Mor makes a dramatic eyeroll.

“All you do is work, you deserve a brake girl! Common, please” I look to Azriel and sign my answer, my heart a little heavy. A part of me wants to go with them, wants to see what that belonging and adventure feels like, what freedom and fun feels like beyond the confines of this city, but I can’t.

“Her schedule is already set” I sign a continuation. “We should tell at least a month in advance if we do something like it again” Mor sighs and slumps in her seat.

“It’s alright Estelle, next year maybe, we’ll be a little better at planning, we didn’t know your work was so strict” Feyre says, and I sigh, looking down at my half-eaten lunch, which still leaves a large amount for me to eat.

A positive in this bad is that I’ve gained weight, partly because of the school’s lunch, and the times Azriel forced me to get something a little larger before work at a local food-stand, paying it, saying I can pay him back over time. I know he doesn’t expect to get that money back, but I keep track of every recite, including the half of the gym expenses, and fully intend to repay the debt one day. I’m also accounting for the battery time he’s wasting on me, keeping track of the cost of electricity to someday repay that too.

“Yeah! Definitely next year! I want to see you on skis” I look to Mor, only a little concerned as she clasps her hands together and giggles to herself.

I see why Azriel likes her, she’s simply perfect.

Õ

Azriel drives me to work Friday after school, another habit he’s made, mainly because he insists I eat on my way there, and because our agreement to face things together apparently means he goes where I go, with some exceptions at school. I don’t mind, Azriel’s company has always been nice, and with the openness between us now, be it partial depending on what we’re comfortable sharing, which still isn’t everything, both keeping the information we share lose and vague, never any deep details, that niceness has only solidified.

I’m no longer Rhysand’s pet either, not Azriel’s either, but people look to me with respect as I walk through the halls, with or without Azriel, my mask honed and strengthened by the boost of self-confident facing my demons is granting me, be it a constant battle I sometimes find hard to hide from my face, some nights full of crying, some breaks spent composing myself in the bathroom after a particularly bad class of psychology, where the subjects cut a little too close to home.

The battle is hard, but I’d be damned if I let Hybern win.

“Don’t be scared to text” Az says beyond his helmet as I get off, tugging off my helmet and handing it to him.

 _You neither._ I look back towards the place I’ll be spending about eight hours a day at from Monday to Friday next week, luckily free both Saturday and Sunday next week because of it. _I’ll mostly be working though._ I sign as I look back at him.

“Still, and remember to eat” I snort.

“You act like a dad” I mumble, making sure no one I know notices, not that I know many, but at this point many know of me. No one would know the voice is mine anyways, lest they’d see my mouth move.

“Maybe, but I’m serious” _I know school is your biggest calorie supplier._ I look to the side.

“I’ll try” I mumble, my throat starting to ache, but doing fine with all the soothing tea I consume these days to help nurse my throat back to proper health.

“No! Try not. Do or do not, there is no try” I roll my eyes, but smile openly.

Azriel turns out to be a real nerd past his shell, and kind, which I already knew from before, but the absolute Star Wars nerd was unexpected, but he’s a movie nerd in general.

“I’m still going to make you watch all eleven movies” he says in answer to my eye-roll.

 _If you plan a month ahead it might fit my schedule._ I’m sure he’s grinning past the helmet.

“How about next weekend? You’re free then” I sigh and pull a lose strand of hair out of my face.

 _My place or yours?_ I try not to think about how strange that sounds.

We’re friends, that’s it.

“Depends, got a CD reader in your TV?” I nod, the one good feature to my TV, as I can’t afford cable, but can hook my computer to it to watch movies, and watch Youtube. “Then I’d rather be at yours, otherwise Cass, Rhys or Razie will keep coming in to bug us” I nod.

 _I’ll write it in my calendar._ He gives me a thumb up.

“See you then” He says with a wave, moving to head off, and I wave back for a moment as he rolls off, then head in to get to work.

This time, Mary’s wiggling eyebrows are greeted by a discreet middle finger, at which she laughs heartily as I go to the back to get changed.

Õ

As I get to bed, I look at my phone, recalling it buzzed on my way home, and I find a video message from Azzy.

I open it and amp up the audio.

It’s a video of drunken chaos, Rhys and Feyre making out on the couch, Cass and Mor downing a bottle of wine each, Nesta and Amren looking to be scheming murderous plots, Amren the mastermind—a law-student—and Nesta the executioner, then there’s Elain, passed out on one of the armchairs, looking like a sleeping angel. It has audio, loud music and cheery cheers from Mor and Cass, and then, as it nears its end, I hear Azriel whispering into the mic.

“Help me” He says, sounding a little drunk, but not as much as the rest of his friends, much better at holding his drink.

I laugh, even though I feel a little bad, then start typing.

 _Looks like fun._ It takes but a moment for those dots to pop up.

 _Cruel thing._ I snort.

 _I’d help if I could._ The dots linger a while

 _Can I show you the mountains?_ I frown a little at the question, but type my answer.

 _Sure, go ahead._ There is a long while of silence on his end, then a video pops into my feed.

I press myself into it and watch the scenery with awe, the mountains white and soft looking with the coating of snow, the lowlands coated in evergreen trees, the sky clear and specked with stars only the pitch of the wilderness can grant, something I’ve only been blessed with a few times in my life, and I spot the slightest signs of the aurora, painting the sky a shade of green.

“Fucking gorgeous” Azriel comments at the end, and I snort, getting out of bed, walking to my own window and sorry view of the city lit up by golden and white light here and there, the sky clouded and dull, then I record an answer of my own, my camera quality a little less than good.

“Beats this” I mumble, and I’m not even sure my microphone picks it up.

When he sends back another video, I don’t expect much, though I find the videoing a little strange from him, but figure it’s the alcohol.

“I want you to sing for me someday” He slurs enough for me to dismiss it as drunken nonsense, yet I still blush.

I take a moment to compose myself before answering.

“If you play guitar” I say through the recording of the rather dull window of mine compared to the view of his recordings.

“Deal” Eventually comes through the recording of a shooting star over a gorgeous mountain, and I sigh.

“Azzy! The hell you doing out there!” Cass calls from inside, and I hear Azriel curse before the recording cuts off.

I laugh and go back to my bed.

 _I’m sorry I can’t save you, but I’m tired, so I’d like a night’s sleep._ Those dots pop up soon enough.

 _Of course, goodnight El._ I smile at my phone as I settle in bed.

 _Goodnight Az._ Then I lock my phone and set it aside on my nightstand.

It’s stupid how my heart thumps in my chest, stupid how deeply I wish I could be there with him, sit on that porch and watch those stars with him, even if it’d be cold as hell. Perhaps he’d wrap me in a blanket before the fireplace I saw afterwards, make sure I’d be cared for and comfortable. But all that are just dreams, stupid foolish dreams that I shouldn’t bother with.

Our companionship is purely platonic, that was the deal from the beginning, and whatever I’m feeling is just a reaction to someone giving a damn for the first time ever, it’s not real, it’s just attachment.

Even if it was real, I’d have no chance against Mor.

My pale blonde hair has nothing on Mor’s golden and gorgeous locks. My pale, sun deprived skin has nothing on Mor’s rich golden hue. My black lifeless eyes have nothing on Mor’s bright brown. My boring self has nothing on Mor’s outgoing and spontaneous ways.

Azriel would be a fool not to love her, would be a fool to care for me past what we are now, and I know that.

But why does that still make me feel so heavy?

Õ

Saturday plays out like all other Saturdays. Chores and more chores. It’s the day everything I don’t have time for during the weeks get done, and I am okay with the schedule. The cleaning is therapeutic in a way, makes me feel like I’m doing good as an adult so I gladly do it.

Cooking gives the same result, even if it hurts my wallet, especially this week, as I’ve promised Azriel to prepare real food for my lunch breaks, and save the sandwich for dinner.

I know he means well, know he wouldn’t be angry if I didn’t hold my promise, disappointed, but not angry. He isn’t like any of my foster-parents, he’s just a friend looking out for me. And I will admit that his pushing for me to be better is helping me get better.

I weighed far below fifty kilos after my hospital stay, and it remained that way for a while, until school started to help me gain some weight. But that still wasn’t enough to make it skyrocket, not with all my exercise, so the extra meals Azriel has been urging me to eat has really helped. I’ve reached just under fifty kilos now, an acceptable weight considering my height, which isn’t much to brag about. The only one shorter than me in the Circle is Amren, stuck at 150 something, while I’m around 163 last I checked.

Today’s meal which is meant to last me a week is spaghetti and this simple meat-sauce, tasty and cheap. As I’m stirring the pot, I feel my phone buzz in my pocket, and I pull it out and check while I stir.

 _Don’t forget our deal._ I roll my eyes.

 _Don’t worry_ _Dad_ , _I’m cooking right now._ I taste my sauce and realize I’m lacking some spices, so I dust in a little more pepper and salt.

 _Stop calling me dad._ I snort.

 _Then stop treating me like a child._ Silence reigns on his end for a bit.

_I’m just a caring friend._

_I know, and I guess no_ _dad_ _I’ve ever had has treated me like this, so I’ll stop._ Silence continues to reign on his end for a while, and I focus on my food as it does.

 _But what’s on the menu?_ I take a picture of said menu and send it his way.

 _Is the cabin so boring you need to resort to texting me?_ I add after, and those dots pause for a moment.

_Looks tasty, and no, we’re going skiing in a bit, I’m just checking in._

_So sweet of you._

_I have to go now though, or Mor’s going to break my phone._ I smile at my phone.

_I don’t doubt that, have fun._

_You try to as well._ And with that, I return my focus to my food.

It turns out good, and I manage to get a good amount of leftovers to bring with me to work this coming week, which all in all feels like a success.

By the time my clothes are done washing and hung up to dry, I sit down at the couch and work on all my schoolwork, even though I’m mostly ahead by now, one cannot be prepared enough for the tests to come. Because they’re coming, some smaller before Spring break, and some larger after, finals you know, so it’s good to start studying already.

Then the clock is six and I feel like I’m ready to do something I want, which quite frankly, isn’t applying the cream to my shoulder, or going to the gym which is like on the other side of town.

So what does one do? My gaze shifts to my phone, and I decide to fuck it and text him, who could it hurt?

 _Still skiing?_ I wait expectantly for an answer.

 _No, Cass’ making his famous stew, why?_ I find myself surprised by this small fact about Cass. So he cooks, not what I’d expect from a gym junky.

_Stalling for time, honestly, all my chores are done say for one, but I really don’t want to do it yet._

_So I’m your escape plan? I’m both flattered and offended._

_Oh shut up._ I can practically see his amused face and gentle smile.

 _What’s the chore?_ I remain sat there, staring at that message for a while, then get stuck trying to type out the answer, unable to find a good way to do it.

 _Tend to my shoulder._ Becomes a simple enough answer in the end.

Silence remains on his end a while.

 _Been there, it sucks._ I don’t doubt he gets it.

_If I do it now I’ll be out the rest of the day, feels like a waste of my free time._

_Definitely. How about you draw something?_ I consider it.

_No inspiration._

_Weren’t the views from yesterday inspiring?_ I smile.

_It was pretty, but I couldn’t capture that beauty even if I tried._

_Sing some then, practice before the performance you owe._ I instantly blush.

_I thought you were drunkly blabbering._

_I was, but I have the agreement on tape._

_Alright, fine, tea it is then, enjoy your stew._ I lock my screen and rise, heading for the kitchen t brew me some tea, and maybe do some of my old singing exercises, silently.

Õ

This week turns out to be the longest one yet, no Azriel coming in to talk to me during my brakes, no Circle coming to bug me in general. Just long and boring and exhausting. Azriel sends me pictures of the mountains from time to time, or of Cassian drunk and passed out in the snow. Fun stuff. I appreciate every picture, but it does make me miss them all, miss the banter, even if I’m only a part of it sometimes.

When Friday finally arrives and I get home at the reasonable hour of five, I breathe a sigh of relief as I get my near frozen outdoor clothes off, then realize I have much to do before I can hit the sack.

Azriel’s coming over tomorrow, and probably staying well into Sunday if the number of hours in the Star Wars franchise has a say in it, so I get to cleaning, not that there’s much of a mess, but I vacuum the floors and clean the living-area, especially the couch, which will be his bed in case he wants to sleep at any point.

While I sort out the place, washing some of my more important clothing today instead of tomorrow, I hear my phone buzz. I’m not surprised to see the ID.

 _Star Wars tomorrow._ As if I’d forget.

 _I know._ I text back and throw in the last piece of clothing before shutting the washing machine and starting the program.

 _I’ll buy all the snacks, since you host the thing. Anything you want?_ I question for a moment if it’s smart to tell him the sad truth or just tell a white lie.

 _Surprise me._ White lie it is.

 _No alcohol still?_ I consider it.

_One would think you’d be sick of it after a week of drinking._

_Never, but seriously, otherwise I’ll get coke or something._ I haven’t made a vow not to drink, I just vowed to never accept alcohol from others again, but Azriel isn’t just another guy at a party, and some alcohol might help me be comfortable with him in my apartment, cause while we’ve hung out in school and at work, I’ve never let him further than the doorstep here.

 _Bring some of both._ He sends a thumbs up.

_I’ll be there around twelve, so we’ve got plenty of time._

_Alright._

And from there I sort out the rest of the chore’s I won’t have time with tomorrow.

Õ

I get up at ten the next day, eat my breakfast, then stuff my clean clothes into their drawers, then take a shower, later spending like half an hour trying to figure out what to wear, deciding on a comfortable blue sweater and a pair of black jeans, just something casual, then I prepare the living-room for what’s to come, hooking my computer to the TV in preparation for the movies, set up a few bowls I manage to find for the snacks, then get a glass each for us, different to tell them apart, and because most glasses I have are mismatched thrift-shop stuff.

I’m sorting out the pillows and blankets for optimal comfort when the doorbell rings, and I hurry to the door, careful as I open said door so I don’t accidentally slam it in his face.

“Hi” He says, a smile on his face, and I grin as well as I take in how much shit he’s carrying right now. I relieve him of some of the bags and greet him back.

“Hello” I step aside and motion for him to enter. He does so wordlessly. I go to the kitchen with the things while he sorts himself out, putting the drinks in the fridge for cooling for now, and the bags of chips and boxes of micro-pop get put on the counter. Azriel comes in with the rest of the stuff setting that too on the counter, and I move to get the cider and fizzy drinks into the fridge, aware that Azriel’s observant eyes are watching every nook and cranny of the place.

“Your place’s neat” I look to him and grab some of the bags, intent on taking them to the couch.

“I like keeping it neat” I clear my throat and head for the living-area, my throat already getting a little achy, despite my training and tea.

“Mor’s room is always an absolute mess” He trails after me with his own heap of snacks. “Cass’s too, Rhys tries but somehow manages to trash it whenever Feyre’s around” He sets his haul down alongside mine atop the coffee-table.

“Wonder why” I say, trying to sound sarcastic. I watch Azriel grin.

“Truly” His eyes trail to the laptop hooked to the TV. “I assume that’s the way we’re gonna watch” I sigh.

“Your place would… Have been better” I turn to Azriel, and he to me. _My things aren’t the most advanced._ Azzy waves my concern away.

“I don’t care if it’s not expensive shit, no one in the Circle does” Azriel swings off his shoulder-bag, setting it down on the ground and digs up a pile of CD cases. “You watching this is what matters” He goes and sets them down by the laptop. “Everyone in the Circle has, more or less, though the majority fell asleep halfway through our last marathon” I go to him and unlock the computer, helping him get the movie running.

“I’ll try to stay awake” Azriel looks to me.

“I won’t judge if you fall asleep, Star Wars isn’t for everyone” I shrug.

“I haven’t watched a lot of movies… This will be… Fun, I think” Azzy smiles.

“I think so too” The movie boots up on the screen, and I go and fix the audio while Azriel sorts out the actual film. Then I start pouring the bowls up with snacks, and get some of the drinks from the fridge, a cider each and one of the bottles of coke. I note that the amount of alcohol is decently low, just above three percent, so that’s nice.

Then I get comfortable on the couch, Azriel coming and joining me as the movie boots up, opening his cider and taking a long sip, and I wonder—with the way his gloved hand shakes—if he’s nervous.

“We’ll watch episode four to six first, then Rouge One and Solo, then the prequels, then sequels” I nod.

“Sounds good” I say as I reach for my own cider, opening it up and taking a gentle sip. It’s better than I remember, then again, it’s been a while.

After the long text of backstory, which I intently read, the movie officially starts, and silence reigns between us as we both watch, not tense, not to me at least, just calm and comfortable.

Azriel seems rather attached to his cider though.

At some point during the first movie—which I find myself smiling at a lot, these robots quite fun if I do say so myself, and this Ben a strange old man—I find one of the bowls of snacks and start munching, and by the mother is it good, I can’t remember the last time I ate snacks like this.

Azriel apparently finds my gouging funny, as he gives me a glance and laughs, and I return it with a frown.

“What?” I say, swallowing down another handful of chips.

“You seem to like them” I look down at the near empty bowl.

“They’re phenomenal” I stuff my face again. _Haven’t had snacks in years_. Azriel looks to the bag of chips on the floor, picks it up and fills my bowl to the brim again.

“Eat up, El” I grin at him and return my focus to the movie.

The movie—which I find myself quickly immersed in—is good, and I am devastated to find the old man Kenobi gone, and at the edge of my seat as Luke makes the flight to destroy the Death Star, and absolutely terrified of Darth Vader. When the end credits roll, I am eager to get to the next one, and Azriel complies to my excited rushed words with a hearty laugh, and soon the hours begin to tick by, my mind fully immersed in this story.

By the time we’ve reached the prequels, we’ve both had a few ciders each, and the coke is half drunk, snacks almost out, so we decide to take a halftime brake to pop some popcorn and discuss what we’ve seen so far.

“Lightsabers are awesome” I conclude as I turn to Az, the popcorn in the microwave behind me.

“Indeed, I have a couple custom replicas at home, you can even duel with them” I stare at him wide-eyed.

“We have to try” He grins, leaning against the kitchen counter before me.

“I’ll bring them to the gym” I can barely contain my approval, bouncing lightly on my toes.

“What colors are they?”

“One’s a blue one, Luke’s first saber, the other’s a red one, Vader’s” I smile wider.

“Awesome” Azzy only grins.

“So, what you think about the Vader-Luke twist” I breath a sharp breath out my nose.

“What you think?” _I practically jumped out of my seat._ Azzy laughs.

“No! _I_ am your father!” Azriel says dramatically, and I just love the open geekiness he’s allowing to show.

“NOOO!” I answer, my horse voice cracking and tearing, the no turning into a coughing spree, and eventual laughter alongside Azriel’s.

“Leia-Luke twist then” I pretend to gag.

“She kissed his brother” Azriel chuckles, the sound a deep and alluring one.

“She didn’t know”

“But still!” I pretend to vomit, then turn to my microwave, the popping beginning to cease.

“I didn’t think you’d be as into it as you are” I look to Azzy as I take out the bag.

“But here I am, nerding out with you”

“Talking” I smile.

“Talking” I move past him to the living-room, bag of fluffy goodies in hand. “Prequels, here we come!” Again, my voice completely brakes, but I go with it, even as Azriel laughs at me, following after me.

I love the prequels, the characters mainly, but the dialogue is a little bland at times. Qui gon was such a good guy, and I hated that he died. Obi wan is a meme-lord, Anakin misunderstood and in need of therapy, and at the end of it, after the heartbreaking fight between Obi wan and Anakin, I’m crying, cuddled into my blanket, a little drunk, but not enough to be out of my mind.

Azriel, to my surprise, pulls me into his side as I sob, careful not to touch my shoulder, and I let him, for whatever reason.

“If only they’d helped him, nothing bad would have happened” I wipe my eyes, but the tears just keep pouring.

“Ani didn’t have the help he needed” I look up at Azzy, so close to me now, so much so I feel the warmth his body radiates, feel it soaking into me.

“He deserved better” I mumble, and I’m partially stunned as one of his hands reach up to my face and wipe away some tears.

“He did, but he got redeemed in the end” I look down at the fluffy blanket I’m wrapped in.

“He did…” I sniffle one last time, then force myself to pull myself together, somehow sobered up a little by Azriel’s closeness, my heart thumping strangely in my chest. “Sequels?” I ask, looking back up at him, only to have my heart jolt in my chest, those lazy hazel eyes of his watching me already.

His eyebrows lift and he looks to the pile of three movies still left to watch, then looks at his phone, assumingly to check the time.

“It’s late, you’re not tired yet?” I shake my head violently. He nods, and the arm he’d snaked around me and rested on my lower left arm loosens its grip and releases me. When he stands, the lack of his warmth makes my bones feel like ice, but I pull myself together and down a few sips of coke and a handful of popcorn to distract myself from the idiocy of my mind.

He’s just drunk, it doesn’t mean anything.

The first sequel is soon starting, and Azriel settles down beside me again, but I keep a distance away, though close enough to still feel that warmth he radiates, unable to fully let go of it.

Ray turns out to be… relatable in a way. Her parents left her, and she’s been forced to fend for herself all her life ever since. I still don’t fully like her, there are some things in the first movie I think is a little Marry Sue, but she’s fine, I guess. Kylo Ren is nothing more than a Vader fanboy, but I feel like he’s just as misunderstood as Anakin was, feel like he just needs a hug from someone, and I find myself rooting for his redemption.

He and Rey totally have some tension too.

In the end, I’m so pissed, so sad, because I got my Reylo kiss, but then he just goes bye bye and dies. The hell!

“It can’t end like this!” I exclaim, throwing my hands into the air. Azriel’s laugh makes me ready to throw hands. “He can’t be dead!” Azriel only smiles a lazy smile my way.

“Ben’s dead” I muffle a sob and fling myself out of my blanket, ready to claw his eyes out if it means I get more content.

“This can’t be it!” I exclaim as his hands grasp my wrists, keeping me from him.

“This is it, if you exclude the series’, but Ben is gone”

“I refuse to believe it! He’s some force being and they can bring him back!” Azriel shakes his head at me, and then his arms seem to buckle, lowering me towards him.

“Ben is gone, accept it” I let out a sob as my head connects with his chest, my arms growing limp, exhaustion wrapping me in its arms, much like Azriel’s seem to be doing. “Accept it, Estelle…” His voice slurs off, and my mind the same, traveling to the land of sleep.


	5. A fine line.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A step too far could ruin it all

It’s strange, this sound. This even, rhythmic thump. Mesmerizing and soothing. And it’s warm, warmer than my bed usually feels, so comfortable. Then there’s the headache, the throbbing in my skull, the only reason I deign to open my eyes, in desperate need of water.

That need is extinguished by an instant freeze to everything I am as my eyes take in my surroundings.

I’m in my living-room, the sun pooling in through the windows, and beneath me, breathing steadily and calmly, is Azriel. He scents of cedar and something else, like mist in the early mornings, and he is so warm, his arms so comfortable, and this all so wrong I can’t even begin to fathom it.

Slowly, I try to ease out of his grip, try to sneak away without waking him, but he stirs, his grip tightening, face twisting, until his eyes part slightly. They widen, his tanned face darkening with a deep blush, and I know my pale face is already beyond red. His grip loosens, and I take my chance to escape, holding his gaze as I sit back, unsure what to say, how to speak even.

Azriel’s half agape mouth hints at the same.

I look to the coffee table, unable to face him if I’m going to speak.

“We passed out…” I mumble, my head spinning a little.

I really need water.

“We did…” Azriel mumbles back, and I stand with a sigh, the world spinning just a little, but I pull through and wobble my way to the kitchen.

A look at the clock reveals the hour to be nine, which is decent enough, and I draw up a glass of water each for us, put some toast in the toaster, then return to the couch, where Az now sits, face in his hands as he hunches over himself, elbows atop his knees. I set the glass down before him and move around the table, sitting down on the other end of it, sipping on the glorious cool water. I watch Azriel eye his, then take it and down it in a couple deep chugs.

“I don’t have painkillers… Otherwise I’d give you” I croak out, my throat a little extra raspy this early in the morning.

“It’s fine” He mumbles, setting the glass down on the table and leans back against the cushions with a sigh. “What time is it?”

“Ten past nine” I say, continuing to gradually down the water, my stomach feeling a little queasy.

“I can’t drive home for a while…” He mumbles, almost apologetically.

“I’m not… Gonna throw you out” He glances my way, and I meet said glance behind my glass. I try not to acknowledge how his cheeks darken before his head abruptly turns towards the kitchen, the toaster making itself known. “Made toast, best I have” I say, rising to my feet, glass still in hand. The dizziness is a little deeper, the darkness growing a little larger over my eyes, but I make it to the kitchen, taking out the butter from the fridge and setting it and the toasted bread down atop the counter. Azriel’s silent footsteps soon approach me as I spread the butter over one of the toasts, even though I’m hardly hungry.

“Did we finish all the movies?” He asks as he steps up beside me, taking the butter knife as I finish with it and starts preparing the other toast for himself.

“Think so, we were… Fighting about Ben Swolo… last I recall” He snorts, but cringes, his headache deep. I take my glass of water and sit down at my small circular table, at least trying to get the sad toast down, though it fights all the way.

“Ben Swolo the Wide…” Azriel mumbles with a faint smile as he sits down on the other end of the table, and I manage to smile at his comment. He sighs and takes a moment to massage his brow, disheveling his already messy head of hair further, and that black shiny hair looks so soft, so-

Let’s not finish that though.

But it has a nicer glow than Dagdan’s inky black hair, Azriel’s dusted with hues of brown.

“We drank too much…” He sighs. “I usually don’t black out…” He sounds… Apologetic.

“We were tired… and drunk” I almost throw it back up as I try to swallow a bigger piece of toast. “Bad combination” I conclude, washing it down with water, but my stomach hardly likes that either.

“Still…” He’s about to say something more, but I stand, making a brake for the bathroom as I feel my throat begin to close. The moment the toilet bowl comes into view, the contents of my stomach spill out of my mouth, and I heave myself to tears.

A pair of hands pull back my hair from my face, gathering it into one as the other rubs my back soothingly, and I heave until only stomach acid remains, nausea still clinging to me, my headache only growing harsher.

“I shouldn’t have brought the alcohol” Azriel sighs behind me as my heaving calms, and he hands me a paper towel for me to wipe my mouth with. I do just that and throw it into the toilet, shakily standing, Azriel letting go of my hair as I flush and move to the sink, slowly washing down the foul taste in my mouth with the cool water from the tap.

“I… Haven’t been drunk since… High-school… I’m… unaccustomed” I breathe, turning to face him, and from the glimpse I caught in the mirror, I realize I look as terrible as I feel.

“Will you be okay?” I nod, grabbing my brush to work out the mess atop my head.

“I’ve been through worse” It doesn’t seem to sit well with Azriel, but he nods and leaves me to it, assumingly to continue his breakfast.

I freshen up just a little, then return to the table, managing to push down the remainder of my toast and downing some more water before retreating to the couch, cuddling into a ball in one of the corners, wrapped in my blanket, and Azriel joins me, taking up residence on the other side.

I hear him sigh on his end, and I see him looking at his phone with an annoyed look on his face, then he chucks the phone onto the table and seems to try to blend into the cushions.

“What?” I question, and he looks my way.

“Mor wants to go to the café with everyone…”

“Now?”

“Later… But I don’t think I’ll be up for it later”

“Me neither…” Azriel sighs.

“She’ll be disappointed as hell if I don’t show, and if you don’t either” I snort, not out of amusement, but this strange annoyance.

“I’d _hate_ to disappoint her…” It comes out sharper than I probably should let it, and I can tell Azriel notes it.

“Mor means well” I roll my eyes, but hide it by cuddling deeper into my blanket.

“You don’t have to… Defend her honor, Azzy… I know that” Even that comes out a little snarkier than it should.

Mor is like a sister to me, at least how I’d figure one would be, how I’d imagine mine would have been had I gotten a chance to know her. One thing she and the one I never got to know has in common is that everyone favors her over me. No one will ever love me if she keeps overshadowing me.

“You can go if you want… I won’t” I’m being petty, and it’s only amplified by the hangover.

“Has Mor done something to you?” I lift my gaze and meet his

“No… But she expects others to meet her every demand… It annoys me” I don’t like the cold look in Azriel’s eyes, but it has to be said, crush or not. “She means well… But doesn’t see the hurt she causes… Sometimes” That ice lingers in his eyes.

My annoyance might be based on other grounds, might be jealousy because everyone loves her, because she’s _perfect_ while I’m nothing but a broken mess, but my words are still true. Mor says things without thinking, without considering the feelings of others sometimes, and no one ever calls her out on it. Azriel least of all. Nesta does sometimes, but everyone usually sides with Mor.

“You don’t know what she’s been through”

“No, I don’t… just like no one knows what makes Nesta so angry and harsh… but everyone still makes their remarks…” Azriel seems unsure what to say, but the ice remains in his eyes. “Forget It… I’m being irrational…” Because I haven’t called her out either, so I can’t expect her to know it hurts people. “I have nothing against your queen…”

Azriel’s cheeks flush and he looks the other way.

“She’s not my queen…” He mutters.

“You clearly like her” I should shut up, I should close this mouth and never open it again.

“And what do you know about it” That cold has seeped back into his tone, but cold of my own making has begun to coat my heart in answer.

“Next to nothing” The silence reigns between us a moment.

“I’m sorry… I… I’m not thinking straight” He eventually sighs, and I do the same.

“Me neither…” I sit up a little straighter and look his way. “Mor’s great… I’m just… I’m…” I don’t know if I should finish the sentence. “She’s everything I’m not …” I sigh.

“I get it… I though the same of Cass and Rhys when I was young” I frown softly. “They’re both social and outgoing, easy to like, charismatic in their own ways… I’m not any of that” I consider my words for a moment, then speak.

“I prefer you… Cass and Rhys are… fine, but… I prefer you” Azriel looks my way, disbelief in his eyes.

“No one’s ever told me that…” Not even Mor. He looks to the ground. “I didn’t think I was worthy anyways…” Of love, of praise. Mor’s rejection only amplifies it.

But maybe he feels so unworthy of love he clings to someone who doesn’t love him, just so he can love someone he never needs to lose, since she’s never his to begin with. Maybe doing the same is better than living in denial of whatever it is I feel.

“You’re worthy… To me at least” He smiles.

Õ

We both end up napping on the couch deep into the day, until my stomach starts grumbling uncomfortably, and I decide it’s time for lunch. Azriel remains passed out on the couch as I go to the kitchen, as silent as I can while I cook the simple fried potatoes and sausages for the both of us.

“Lunch?” I try not to show my surprise as his voice cuts through the silence, my mind so deep in thought as I stand before the stove, the fan blocking the sound of his movement. I’m not used to having another in here either, so that only adds to the issue.

“If you’re hungry” I look behind me, where Azriel stands leaned against the fridge. He looks contemplative.

“I’d hate to burden you” I shrug.

“Making you a meal won’t ruin me” Especially with the extra money I’ve worked for this week. He still looks unsure, but he and I both hear the loud groan from his stomach, and Azriel yields in the form of a nod. “There’s plates above the sink” He gets the hint and starts setting the table, the food just about done.

“It’s not much…” I mumble as I scoop up the food onto Azriel’s plate, mine in his other hand, which I too fill.

“It’s enough” I meet is eyes with the faintest smile.

I make sure the stove and fan is all turned off, then head with him to the table, the glasses already filled with water, forks and knives neatly set before the chairs I notice Azriel look at his phone as we eat, that annoyed look there, but it might just be frustration.

“Mor pushing?” He nods, then stuffs his face with some sausage.

“She wants a Circle meeting, strongly” He keeps eating, which I deem a god sign regarding the taste. “We’re the only ones refusing”

“Even Nesta’s on?” He nods.

“She and Cass got frisky in the mountains, according to Cass. She denies everything”

“Of course she does” I finish a bite from my food, then continue. “I wouldn’t want the snooping either” Azzy nods.

Then he starts typing something, and I watch in awe as the touch-screen works with the gloves.

“How do you type?” Azriel appears to press send, then sets his phone aside and looks to me.

“With the gloves? Custom made” Makes a lot of sense, now that I think about it.

“Huh…” The mention of the gloves gets me thinking about my own covered piece of myself, what I still haven’t done this weekend.

“She says she can change location and time, to five at Sevenda’s, just for dinner” His words snap me out of it.

“I… Guess…” Azriel sighs.

“I’ll drive us there, you’ve got the helmet here after all, but I… Could use a shower before we go out…” It feels so strange, the way he uses _us_ and _we_ , how we’re discussing afternoon plans over the kitchen table in my home.

“Me too…” I hurry to finish my food, coming up with an idea. “I’ll take one now… It’ll be quick… Then we can go to yours and you can get ready” Azzy nods, and I rise and head into my bedroom, grabbing a new set of slightly nicer clothes, then lock myself in the bathroom to get myself sorted.

It’s quickly done, and as I step out into the living-space to find Azriel, hair still damp, though braided back, I find Azriel working away at the sink, drying off the dishes with the designated cloth, the living-room almost completely cleaned, say for the need to vacuum.

“You didn’t have to” I say as I approach him, and his hazel eyes move from the glass in his hands to me.

“Least I could do” He opens the right cupboard and puts the glass in the right place, like he’s figured out my sorting just by studying it. I look to the clock and realize we have about two hours before said dinner.

“I’ll vacuum the living-room a little” Azriel cringes, his headache probably still a little present, so I go to my stash and hand him a couple earplugs, which he silently thanks me for while I put my own in, then bust out the ol’ vacuum that has to be over ten years old by now and vacuum away.

The clock’s closing in on quarter over three by the time I’m done, and Azriel’s been done with the dishes a while. We both breathe a sigh as I turn off the damn thing, tugging out the earplugs from our ears, and I take his and put them in the “used” box for cleaning, the hard rubber easy enough to get cleaned with some hot water and soap.

“Nasty thing you’ve got” Azriel comments as I stuff the damn thing in the small closet it belongs in.

“Cheapest I could find…” I look around my rather dull and bland home. “Most things here are”

“There’s nothing wrong with that, no one in the Circle would judge you because you’re not as well off” I look to the side. “I’ve said that plenty before” I nod.

“I know… I guess… I’m ashamed of myself…” Azriel looks inclined to argue, but I cut him off. “Let’s get to yours… if you feel ready to drive” Azriel nods, grabbing his gathered bag of movies, then we both head to the hall, silently getting our outdoor wear on.

As I lock the door behind us, motorcycle helmet under my arm, I realize something, something that follows me all the way down the stairs, and to the parking space Azriel has settled his motorcycle at. It only becomes clearer to me as I get my helmet on and sit down behind Azriel, snaking my arms around his torso, his radiating warmth seeping into me much like this morning. A morning we both are choosing to ignore, pretend never happened.

I don’t know what it means, that we’ve both agreed to not discuss it, or even acknowledge it, but I figure I shouldn’t get into it. So, I don’t dwell on it as we get rolling, the bike almost completely silent as we roll down the streets on the way to his home. His home, he’s taking me to his home, to his, Rhys’ and Cass’ home, where I might meet his mom whom I’ve heard so much about. I’m a little nervous for some reason.

For good reason, because as we roll up the driveway, the hose I see is about ten times the size of my apartment, it feels like it at least.

I get off, and feel completely out of place while Azriel secures his locks and takes off his helmet, something I mimic as he does. Apparently, my awe and terror is clear enough to him that he decides to comment.

“I felt the same the day I first arrived” He says, then begins the ascent to the front door, lined by a great terrace. I follow close behind as he steps through the door, not saying a thing, not greeting anyone, not calling out to announce he’s here, just setting his helmet on a high-up shelf, taking mine to do the same, then tugs off his coat and hangs it on a clothing rack, which I mimic upon his urging, setting my shoes down beside his.

Then I stick even closer to him as he takes me through the halls and up a set of stairs, terrified of getting lost along the way somehow.

We pass someone on the way, a woman who looks so much like Rhys she can’t be anyone but his mother.

“Azriel! Welcome home!” Azriel smiles, but doesn’t say anything, as the woman’s eyes shift to mine, her warm smile growing brighter. “Who’s this? The new friend you and your brothers keep mentioning?” I eye Azriel, surprised to hear they speak of me when I’m not around. “They say nothing but good things, assure you, dear” I return my focus to the woman.

“Ramona, this is Estelle” I smile softly as I wave at the woman, clamping my throat shut to maintain my silent façade.

“Nice to finally meet you, Estelle, my boys have been speaking of you since school started this year, they say you’re quite the puzzle” She laughs a gentle and kind laugh, nothing mocking. “Rhysand and Cassian do, at least, I’m not surprised Azriel’s managed to put some pieces together” She looks to Azriel with such pride it makes my heart ache.

Never, no one’s ever looked at me like that, with pride and love, never.

“We’re going to Sevenda’s at five” Azriel says, and that prideful smile shifts into intrigue.

“On a Sunday night before school?” Azriel sighs.

“Just dinner, Mor insists” Ramona looks up thoughtfully.

“Suppose I shouldn’t expect my sweet Rhysie and Cassie to be home in a while still then…” I smile at the nicknames, then again, I call Azriel Azzy. “Well, I shouldn’t keep you longer, I’ll be preparing dinner for Razie and Rowan” She bids us goodbye for now, and Azriel takes us down the hall to what I assume is his room, but I linger at the door, as he goes deeper into the surprisingly bright and neat room, with white clean walls lined with this foamy gray tiles and dark wooden flooring, but quite a lot of dark furniture.

His room is about the size of my living-room, but most of the space seems almost unused.

“A lot of R’s” I mumble as I step inside, closing the door behind me upon his command.

“Cass and I brake the tradition, but yes” He opens a dresser and tugs out some new clothes for him to wear.

I scan the walls and find something that makes my eyes widen.

“Are those…” I lose my trail of thought as I see the replica lightsabers displayed on the wall above his modest bed. Azriel follows my trail of sight.

“They are” I stare at them for a moment, until Azriel blocks out the view of them, taking them both down.

He hands me one, and I grasp it with gentle care.

“Touch that” He motions at this thing on the handle, and I do it, the white saber part lighting up red with a whoosh straight out of the movie.

I gently swing it around, listening as the slight purring and crackling shifts with my movement, and I’m endlessly fascinated. Azriel lighting his—the saber a bright and pure blue—catches my attention, and he steps deeper into the room, doing some Jedi moves I have no clue how he pulls off, lest he’s an actual Jedi in disguise.

“I’ll teach you another day” He says, stepping to me and taking the blade from me, turning it and the other one off and put them back on their displays. “We have places to be” He grabs his pile of clothes and moves towards the door.

_Where are we going?_ I sign as I enter the hall, Azriel seeming intent on a goal as he walks down the hall.

“I’m going to the bathroom” He looks down at me. “You could go to the living-room and wait for me, it’s just down the stairs to the right” I knew that, saw that as I tried to note every turn we took and every detail of the halls we went down.

_Okay_. I sign and head down the hall I know will take me to the stairs, Azriel continuing to his destination.

I find the living-room easily enough, and I initially move towards the couch, but I spot something tucked against the wall, almost invisible against the white walls. A piano, not like the grand one in school, but fancy enough that I hesitate as I approach it.

Carefully—every fiber of my being telling me not to touch, yet somehow so strongly drawn to this thing that I simply can’t, the safety music grants so alluring in this new and strange place, so not a safe-space to me alone yet—I open the white lid, revealing reversed keys, the whites black and blacks white, at first a little confusing to my mind, but looking very fancy and interesting.

I run a shaky finger over the black keys, soft and smooth, and lined with slight dust, seemingly untouched for a long time.

“You may play, if you wish” Her voice cuts through the silence, and my head whips back towards the archway entrance to the room, finding her stood there, apron tied around her, a kind and gentle smile on her lips, inviting and calming.

As if she knows she has a scared animal in her home, has seen it before.

“Rhys wanted to learn when he was young, but he rarely plays anymore, neither does Razie, so I’d love to hear it being used again, it deserves the love” I look down at those keys, calling me to play, to lose myself to the music.

I sit down on the leather stool, lowering it to suit my height, then set my fingers down atop the keys. As I press down the first couple notes, the rest just start flowing out, my mind only needing moments before I delve into the music, my hands moving smoothly over the keys.

It’s one I play often, not one I’ve made myself, but instills just as much hope as it does, and it is just as beautiful to me, though not as dear to my heart. As the chorus hits, I fully delve into the notes, putting intensity where it should, until it dies down into those soft initial notes again.

There are words spoken, silent and distant as the music holds my mind in its grasp, but they’re there, and close. They fade, and without thinking, I start humming along, my voice raspy and wrong, but I try to follow the notes as best I can, until the song ends in a soft ritardando.

That’s when my sixth sense of mine makes me realize someone’s watching me, and I turn and look to the arch again, not finding Ramona there but Azriel, smiling softly as he leans against the door frame, hair damp but a contained mess.

“Don’t stop ‘cause of me” He says calmly. “It’s lovely” I look to the grandfather clock by the wall, still only around four.

I don’t know why, but I motion for Azriel to sit down on the stool with me, and he frowns softly, but complies and silently moves to sit down by the lower keys.

_Play with me_. He looks surprised.

“I can’t, El” I roll my eyes.

_You heard me hum, now let me hear you play something_. He sighs, but smiles.

_I’ll play guitar when you sing._ I nod.

_But you’ll need to take baby-steps there, as I am._ He looks down at the keys, dumbfound. _Do this._ Then I show him a series of four notes, and he shakily lifts his left hand to the keys, his index finger searching for the same keys.

Grasping his lower arm gently, unsure how high his burns reach, I guide his finger to the right keys, and guide him through the series of keys until I let go and find him doing it well enough on his own.

_Do that over and over while I play my part, same rhythm._ He nods, his gaze fixed on the keys as he maintains the beat, fully focused on what he’s doing.

Then I join in with the melody and chords, his tones the bass, and while it’s shaky, Azriel messing up now and then, causing us both to laugh softly, we work our way through the simpler song, the world around us lost to the moment.

Õ

“Don’t be out _too_ late, it _is_ school tomorrow after all” Ramona says as Azriel and I get dressed to head out around half five, the helmet under my arm as I wait by the door.

“I won’t, don’t worry” Ramona sighs.

“I’m more worried about your brothers… But I’m glad I can count on you, Azriel” She gives Azriel a tight hug, the lady so small compared to him, much like I am compared to him.

Azriel is both tall and well built, not as devastatingly so as Cassian, but Azriel is a little taller than him, so I figure that Cass looks wider in comparison, and Rhys is a perfect middle ground.

As Ramona lets go of Azriel, I expect her to step back and go back to whatever she was doing before, but she steps forward and wraps me into a warm and lovely hug, arms wrapping around my torso, noticeably avoiding my shoulders, leaving me stunned and wide-eyed, lost as to what to do.

“Welcome to the family, Estelle, you’ll fit right in here” My arm is shaky as I reach around to pat her back lightly, about the same height as myself, a little shorter. I’m practically ready to start bawling my eyes out as she pulls back, sheer will the one thing keeping me composed, but I know my eyes are a little red.

“We should go” Azriel says, opening the door and guiding me along, and I thank him for diffusing the overwhelming situation for me. “See you tonight, Ramona” I hear the door click closed, and I’m only half there as Azriel guides me down the stone path to where he’s parked, the world blurry as the tears begin to trickle down my cheeks.

“She…” I breathe as we reach the bike, my voice cracking, breathing shaky as I inhale.

“I know” He gently wipes some of the tears away, his gloved hand somehow gentle against my skin. “I said she’d adore you” He says as he pulls back, letting me wipe the rest away, even though they’re still falling.

“No one’s ever… Before you caught me… I’ve never been held…”

“I know… I could tell” He looks to his bike. “Will you be okay?” I nod slowly, remembering the helmet under my arm, the destination we must get to.

“Yes” I mumble, wiping the last of my tears, then put on the helmet snugly. “Let’s go” He nods and sits down, and I sit down behind him as usual, allowing myself to hold on a little tighter as the remnants of my sobs slowly drain out of me.

Õ

My composure is reset as we enter Sevenda’s, quickly finding where Mor and Cass are already seated, including Nesta. Considering how close to Cass she sits, I assume something _did_ happen in the cabin, but I won’t ask, or think too much about it.

Cass whistles as we approach.

“Dang bro, you look like shit” Azriel gives him a glare. “You don’t look much better either, sorry Estelle” He says as his eyes shift to me.

“Did _Star Wars_ keep you both up all night?” Mor chirps, wiggling her eyebrows in a way so like Mary does, which causes Azriel to blush a dark shade of red, and I realize what she’s trying to hint at. I don’t blush though, perhaps a little because their blunt accusation, but all I can really think about is the last and first time _that_ ever made an appearance in my life.

So that blush drains away into a pale and vacant expression I can’t quite hide with my usual cold mask.

Never again, I’ll never be able to be that close to someone again, I don’t think I want to.

“Don’t, Mor” Azriel seems to beg, but Mor only keeps smirking, unaware of the memories she’s digging up for me.

“What? Sore subject? We wouldn’t judge if you two found each other tangled in the sheets” Cassian adds, and I keep my eyes set on the floor, a slight tremble reaching my hands.

“Cass, please” Azriel sounds close to pleading. I guess he notices, knows why the color has drained from my face, something neither of them do.

“I wonder… do mutes moan?” Cassian continues, unbothered by his brother’s pleading.

“Could you two dimwits shut your filthy mouths? Estelle’s clearly not alright” Nesta’s sharp and lethal tone cuts into the mix, and this deafening silence fills the air.

I lift my gaze to her, meet the steely and sharp gray blue, so much more aware than anyone gives her credit for, so harsh in her words that her intent often gets lost on most. I notice Mor’s smirk fade in the corner of my eye, notice Cass’s smug grin do the same, until regret is all that remains in both their eyes.

“Estelle… I’m sorry, we didn’t… we didn’t mean to-” I turn to Azriel, hand him the spare helmet, then meet his concerned hazel eyes and sign with shaky hands.

_Bathroom._ Then I walk to the sign reading just that, my legs weak, breathing growing unsteady as I lose the little grip I have on the flashing memories in my mind, just barely able to lock myself in before the tears begin to fall, my breathing turning into a storm of shaky breaths I can barely breathe in.

I sit down atop the toilet, cradle my head as I try to reel myself in, forcing myself to take deep—be they shaky—breaths.

My phone buzzes, a mostly distant sound, something I wouldn’t notice past the ringing in my ears if it weren’t for the vibration, and I shakily lift it up and look.

_He can’t hurt you anymore._ From Azriel, and somehow, it’s just what I need to read, my breathing easing just a little.

Another comes soon after.

_I won’t let anyone hurt you like that again._ I read those two messages over and over as I school my breathing to calm, my tears slowly easing as the memories get pushed down again. _You’re not fighting alone._ I stand, go to the sink and splash my face with water, then dry it off with some paper towels.

I’m not alone, not anymore, and I’m growing stronger every day. I can fight this, the war isn’t over, I can reclaim myself, learn to live someday. I stand straight, stare into my puffy eyes, still a little red from crying, then I take a deep, steadying breath, and whisper softly.

“I refuse to stay broken” And while I’m not okay, not quite, I move towards the door and let myself out.

Õ

Everyone has arrived by the time I reach the table, and I can tell they’re trying not to look at me too closely, not wishing to pry. Mor and Cass look terrible enough that I figure Azriel’s been giving them a lecture of some sort, Nesta as well, if her steely and irritated expression has anything to say about it.

Azriel only gives me a soft and comforting look as I sit down on the empty seat beside him, and that is that.

“So, what do we order? I’m starving” Mor says, trying to cheer up the mood, a mood I’ve ruined. My eyes go to the table-top.

“I’ll get some menus, so we can have a look” Rhys offers, slithering out from Feyre’s side.

Idle chatting ensues, Elain talking to Feyre about the garden she wants to make this spring, Amren and Nesta discussing whatever they usually discuss.

Mor and Cass are uncharacteristically quiet, their shame evident in their eyes as they glance my way, but I ignore it.

They didn’t know, they don’t need to know any more than they do now, so may they cower in shame, I won’t confront it.

_Good?_ Azriel signs I his lap, which I only vaguely pick up on.

_Fine._ I answer, which isn’t a complete lie.

I left that bathroom with a straight back, yet now… I straighten my back and look to Azriel, aware that my eyes are vacant and cold, but I’m not plummeting into that pit of despair anymore. Azriel threw me a rope and now I’m clawing my way out again, slowly but surely, reaching for that ledge, hoping to someday climb up completely.

It’s a fool’s hope, but I will cling to that edge until I die if I must.

Rhys returns with the menus, and I silently begin to flip through the pages, trying to figure out what I’d like, and what I’d afford.

Everyone else seem to know the menu by heart, and everyone except Elain and I are done within the initial five minutes.

“This one’s good” Azriel suggests, pointing to a schnitzel with mashed potatoes and this sauce I don’t think I’ve ever tried before. The prize is reasonable too, so I nod, making my decision. “That and?” I realize he wants me to pick a drink so he can say my order when the waitress comes.

I forget how restaurants work sometimes.

_Water._ I sign, and Azriel nods.

I put my menu in the pile on the table, meeting Morrigan’s shameful and apologetic eyes for a moment. Even though smiling is the last on my list of things I want to do, I push a soft, polite and reassuring smile to my lips for just a second, because it’s fine, she couldn’t know, and she won’t know. 0It seems to relieve her, as she breathes a sigh, and I make sure to give Cassian a similar smile to get the puppy eyes off him. Then the waitress arrives, and we all say our orders, say for me, my order taken care of by Azriel, and then all we can do is wait.

Discussions about the lodge comes up, and I try to be present in the talking, but it’s not easy to add anything when you’re not talking. I listen though, and I conclude that something has indeed happened between Cass and Nesta, which is good for them, and apparently, Elain stayed on her phone most of the time, heard giggling at whatever the person on the other end said. I assume she was speaking with Lucien.

“And you kept looking at that damn phone too, Az!” Cassian accuses. “What do you have to say for yourself?” Azriel holds his brother’s gaze.

“I kept Estelle in the loop” Their eyes go to me.

“How was your week of work, Little Owl” Amren and her damn nicknames.

I sign my answer for Azriel to translate.

“Long and boring without us to bother her now and then” Amren smiles a very feline smile, and the other’s smile and grin their own signature smiles.

“I knew you’d warm up to our company, even if we can sometimes be dimwitted asses” Cass says, and I meet his eyes, a little greener than Azriel’s more amber hazel.

_You’re better than nothing._

Azriel smiles.

“She thinks we’re better than nothing, which I’d consider a compliment” The table burst into laughter, and I join them faintly, my laugh more of a strangled shaking and wheezing, always has been.

Our food soon arrives, and I slowly dig in, finding it really, _really_ , good. I don’t engage in conversation, so I just keep enjoying this glorious food, eating until there isn’t a single scrap left on my plate. The Circle ends up discussing the coming weeks of studying and midterm tests. Smaller, but still important. I am already set as far as I’m concerned, so I feel no stress about the matter.

When all is payed and sorted, we all bid each other goodbye until next time, and Azriel drives me home for the day. I’m exhausted, utterly drained, and I don’t bother to do much of anything after saying goodbye to Azriel and locking me in my apartment, heading straight to bed and letting sleep claim me.

Õ

I decided to keep my hair down today, the braid from yesterday a mess when I awoke, and the curls it made kind of pretty. It feels strange, but also nice, so I own it as I step into homeroom and brew me and Azzy our regular morning coffee.

“Mor and Cass are sorry” Azriel mumbles as he sips on his drink.

“I know” I whisper, using my own coffee to buy me time before continuing. “What did you tell them?” Azriel sighs.

“To think before they speak, then Nesta took over” He sighs. “They’re both smart enough to assume somethings happened to you” I sigh just as deeply as he.

“Great” I pick at the dirt beneath my nails as I drink my coffee. “Yesterday was just great…” I mumble.

“Ramona says you’re free to come over and play whenever you want, she loved it” I meet his gaze.

“Maybe…” Azriel smiles, then his gaze shifts to my hair.

“That’s new” I shrug, reaching a hand up to run through my light curls.

“Just happened…” I sip on my drink, raising an eyebrow as Azriel’s eyes linger.

“It looks nice” My cheeks heat, and I smile, glancing to the side.

“Thank you” I look to the clock, realizing I should get going to class, some things I need to discuss with my teacher before everyone else arrive, and it takes a while to speak through notes.

I rise, mug in hand and look towards the door.

“I should get to class…” I look back at Azriel, smiling gently. “See you at lunch” He nods in form of goodbye, and I make my way through school, making sure to put on my mask.

The halls have filled up a little, people watching me warily as I pass, but I don’t really give them the chilling, knowing stares I usually do, my goal more important than whatever they’re doing.

Until I spot a hint of red hair in the corner of my eye, and I let my eyes hone in on the culprit.

His amber eyes meet mine, and his lips quirk up into a slippery smile. My heartbeat starts thumping in my ears, but I force my breathing to remain calm, force my mask of calculating cold and gentle promise of pain to remain snugly across my features.

“No bodyguard today?” Eris asks, that smile steadfast on his lips.

I hold his gaze, not letting a sliver of unease show. The fact that everyone in the hall with us are watching makes that a little harder, still unused to being visible, being feared again. This is my first challenge to see if my bark is the same as my bite, if I am that menacing and unnerving presence I make myself seem, used to be before I was beat into submission and forced to remain off the radar.

“Pity, I had some words for that dog” Eris sighs dramatically. “Tell him I said hi, would you?” I hold his gaze for a moment, then just turn and leave, a clear display that he isn’t worth my time, that I don’t care for his words and thoughts, and to my surprise, he lets me go without a fight.

Perhaps he isn’t as tough when his brothers aren’t around.

From there, everything goes fine, my questions to the teacher answered, and I get to work, whisking the thought of Eris and his stupid brothers out of my skull

Õ

It’s nice to have lunch in school again. I enjoy cooking, but it really eats away at my bank account. Mor is still as disappointed with it as always, but I don’t really care if it’s a little ignorant of her. Some people are picky, they can’t help the way they are.

Nothing exciting happens during my classes after lunch, not until music class, where the teacher stresses the importance of signing up your performances for the spring concert, and speak to him regarding the graduation performance coming up.

I don’t intend to perform, so when we’re let off to do our practicing and whatever, I sit myself down at the grand piano and start playing. The the teacher decides to approach me.

“I understand that the spotlight isn’t your calling, but your playing is lovely, wouldn't you consider some kind of performance?” I look to the man, then down at the keys again.

I shake my head.

“If it’s the attention that bothers you, you could be playing behind a cloth or something of that kind, keep your identity hidden that way, no one has to know” I shake my head.

Too much, it’d be too much.

“Alright, I won’t push, but consider it…”

The thought clings to me after school, as Azriel takes me to that local food-stand and buys me the cheapest hot-dog they have. A part of me, a small part of me, urges me to accept the offer, but another—the one that cowers in the face of crowds, the one who hasn’t completely settled down with the thought of being seen—protests strongly.

“What’s on your mind?” Azriel asks as we stand beneath one of the parasols the stand provides, the rain a slight nuisance.

“I was offered a spot on the concert schedule…” I mumble, hiding most, if not all my mouth movements with my hot-dog. Azriel looks surprised for a moment.

“That’s… Big” I nod. “Will you take it?” I look to the side.

“Don’t know” I take a bite to buy me time. “I don’t want to, but do”

“A lot of eyes on you” I nod.

“Yeah… They offered to… keep me hidden… but…”

“Being heard is the issue too” I nod.

“Small groups work… this… is more” Azriel nods, his eyes scanning the gloomy environment around us.

“It’s up to you” I sigh, then remember that one thing I’d decided to ignore practically all day.

“Met Eris this morning” Azriel stills before me, a lethal calm washing over his features.

I wonder if he cares about the fact that _I_ met him, or the mention of him in general just ticks him off.

I don’t allow myself the torture of believing Azriel would care that much about me.

“He says hi…”

Õ

The next day, Elain and I are headed to our classes together, Sociology and Botany fairly close to one another, at least halfway there before our paths split.

Elain is sweet as always beside me, smiling and excited as she shows me some of the flowers she’s been studying, and I still haven’t quite figured out if her beautiful flower persona is a way to hide her thorns, but she seems genuinely sweet for the most part, so the thorns may just be another side to her, no part ever a mask.

With my own mask in place, one she understands as well as all her other friends’ masks, the people we pass look to Elain with what seems like pity, or concern.

How did the pretty rose end up with the monsters of Night? Wouldn’t she fit in better in the Spring? A part of me agrees, mainly because Lucien resides there, and she’d be ecstatic to be able to spend more time with him. But she’s in Night, and I think she enjoys being around her sisters and their family of friends.

“See this one? It’s called the Night Rider, a naturally occurring, near black flower growing in the wild! It’s colors are a little off from the Night Court’s, but I think it’s an amazing flower” I nod, looking at said flower in her book, seeing the intrigue. “I’d love to get one… But I don’t know where I’d find one…” She sounds so genuinely disappointed I feel a little bad.

But that washes off me as I notice how empty the hall has gotten, something which passed my mind as I listened to Elain, and I hear the sound of low, lethal voices in the empty silence. I grab Elain’s arm, and she yelps, but I lift a finger to my mouth, motioning for her to be silent. She sows her lips shut, and her doe-like eyes scan the corridor fearfully as I assess it calculatingly.

“I told you, she’s not worth protecting, she’ll brake eventually either way” Eris. My heart immediately starts racing in my chest.

“You don’t know her, Eris” Azriel… Is it just them? Or are his brothers there? Would Eris dare attack Azriel alone? Is this just a verbal feud.

“And you do?” There’s reigning silence for a moment. “Has the lapdog jumped ship? Is that it? Did you grow tired of Mor as you should have years ago and chosen a new owner?” I hear the sound of someone being slammed into a locker.

“Say that again” Now I know it’s just Azriel and Eris. And I look to Elain with a pressing look as I release her arm.

I motion for her to take the other route, something I’ve done before when I noticed trouble in the halls, and she nods, eyeing me with worried eyes as I step towards the conflict and she makes the commanded retreat.

“If Mor—who’d fuck anyone who asks nice enough—refuses to sleep with you, do you really think anyone will?” I slowly approach the fork in the hallway, knowing they’re on the right, my steps light as a feather as I approach, silent as a mouse. “Do you think _anyone_ could stomach you? Stomach being touched by you and your _disgusting_ hands?” Eris lets out a yelp as he’s shoved into the lockers again, the metallic sound clear in the hall, and I hurry just a little before Azriel does something stupid that could get him suspended.

Small quarrels are allowed, but knowing myself, knowing that lethal ice behind Azriel’s eyes when rage consumes him, I know this will become more than a quarrel

I round the corner just as he lands the first blow to the side of Eris’s head, Azriel’s hazel eyes glazed over by a film of lethality and icy rage. Eris just laughs, spitting blood onto the stone floor.

“They’re good for _that_ , at least, hurting people” Azriel lifts his fist for another shot, and I hurry my steps. “Go ahead, _put them to good use_ ” A muscle in Azriel’s jaw twitches, his body preparing for another strike.

But I get there first, grabbing hold of his forearm, and Azriel’s cold, lethal eyes snap to me with predatory precision, assessing me as a possible new threat for just a split second before he register’s it’s me, and some of that ice cracks, the tenseness in his arm loosening slightly.

I watch Eris grin in the corner of my eye.

“See, an ever faithful dog” Azriel looks to Eris, still pinned against the wall by Azriel’s hand, holding a fistful of his shirt to keep him in place.

I force Azriel’s right arm to lower, and his focus returns to me. I shake my head gently. _Not worth it_ , I try to make it say, and that ice thins a little further before he looks to Eris again, then lets go of his shirt and steps back, eyes pinning him down as much as his fist did as he observes Eris’ every move.

He makes a show of readjusting his jaw, then smirks as he looks at us, both backed away from him by now, my arm back at my side.

“The twins send their regards” He says before turning down the hallway again, in the opposite direction of the one I need to take to get to class within the next ten minutes.

But that’s the least of my concerns as those words sink in, and the air leaves my lungs, ice freezing over my blood.

He has contact with them.

Or he’s bluffing, he might be bluffing.

It’s that sole thought that allows me to suck in a breath and gather myself enough to look to Azriel, whom is massaging his right fist beside me with such intent I wonder if he’s just doing it so he doesn’t go running after him.

“Eris is nothing but a yapping puppy grasping for attention” I say softly, barely a whisper. “He enjoys tearing people apart from inside” I lift a hand to my heart, to the burnt skin stretching over parts of my breast. “But we decide what brakes us” I gently brush my hand over the burnt area, still hidden by the cloth, but the strange sensation of it still noticeable. “Eris will not” Azriel lifts his hand, staring vacantly at his palm.

Hesitantly, unsure if this is too far, if he’ll accept it, I take that large clothed hand in mine, his body freezing up as my fingers gently grasp it. I let my thumb run over his palm, then slowly, arm shaking, lift his hand to me, breathing evenly as I let it land atop my shoulder, feel the weight of his palm as it encases part of the charred skin beneath my uniform.

Azriel only stares, the cold replaced by a mess of emotions I’m not even sure he knows how to deal with, and my own hurricane of emotions sends my body shaking at the same time.

“Our _pasts_ will not” I continue, my voice shaky and weak, but I know he’s listening to every word. “we’ll face the demons together, and win” I let one of my hands fall from the one of his resting on my shoulder, unable to fully leave the sense of control my grip on him grants, and Azriel, apparently regaining some bodily functions, gently runs his thumb along my collarbone, this clear warmth filling his eyes, even though his face remains stoic as ever.

“Together” He breathes, the faintest smile spreading across his face for just a second, and I answer it with one of my own.

“Together”


	6. Do or do not

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes you just have to take a leap of faith.

It took everything I had to let his hand linger there, took every piece of me to not balk at the touch. Not because it was him, no, I held on _because_ it was him.

Because I know he’d never hurt me, never be anything but gentle with me.

Yet still, as he walks me to class—for his peace of mind—I’m trying not to shake, battling the memories and discomfort within me.

I did it to solidify my point, to show him that Eris was wrong, that his hands are not repelling, that people can stomach being touched by him. I could have chosen my right shoulder—would be spared of this tremble and lingering distress had I—but it wouldn’t have meant as much.

I’ve been clear that touching my shoulder is off limits, and Azriel has done everything in his power to respect that. Placing his hand atop that shoulder shows him I trust him, that I know his hands do more than hurt, that he is more than the violence he sometimes submits to.

That I _chose_ to let him touch it does not make the war inside me any milder. I won’t make it a habit, not with how it tears at me, but I’m also proud that I managed to let it happen, that I’ve grown strong enough to fight the trauma that holds me captive.

It’ll be a roller-coaster, some days I’ll be stronger—able to cling harder to the wall I have to scale—some days I’ll slip and sink back deeper into the void, but whatever happens, I will keep climbing, keep aiming for that light, and I know I’ll have Azriel right there with me, reaching for that same light.

Õ

Wednesday during gymnastics I realize the mistake I’ve made. Every push up makes the rough skin on my shoulder tear and ache, making it very difficult to complete the tasks we’re given. Feyre, my partner today, does not seem to notice, caught up in her own struggle as she pushes herself hard to get the tasks done. A real fighter, this one.

I push on—as I always do—but every time that skin stretches to its limit, every time that pain shoots through me, I feel my body quiver, feel my mind falter.

I forgot to apply the cream this weekend, too busy with the movies we were watching, and too tired to remember after dinner with the Circle. The doctor warned me that not following the scheduled appliances and precautions he prescribed would quickly become a noticeable issue, especially in the first couple years while the body is still slowly trying to heal what it can, slowly getting the basic moisturizing functions running again.

Forgetting that one time will cost me this week, but I don’t know if I should wait until Saturday before restarting the schedule, or do it the moment I get home.

Maybe doing it twice this week would be smart, but the thought of having to go through that hell twice… it’s… it's not something I’m keen on doing.

Showering after is hell, because afterwards I feel how the skin grows stiffer and less mobile. The moisturizing shower soap I have at home usually helps a little, but in school I don’t have that, and the water just dries up the skin further. I need to do something, after work, I have to do something.

Azriel notices, notices my cringe as I tug on my coat before my locker, he leaned against the ones beside mine as he waits for me to get ready, helmet under his arm. I tug out the one which has become almost permanently mine—for convenience, considering how much he drives me around—and lock the locker behind it and turn to head out. But Azriel stops me.

“You’re hurting” I look to him, watch him push off of the wall to join me on the way out of school.

“It’s nothing” I mumble and get going, because it is. When I get home, I’ll apply the cream, even if that means I’ll have to do it again on Saturday. I can’t let this get worse, I can’t.

Azriel doesn’t push, knows we have little time before my work starts, so he takes me there and heads on his way.

Work gets a little difficult, cleaning the tables a little harder with only one arm functioning properly, but I get through it and get home my usual time.

I stop in the hall for a moment, the door to my bathroom to the right, and the one to my bedroom on my left. I want to go left, want to just _not_ do this and go to bed, but I know that’s stupid, know it’ll do more harm than good, so I step into the bathroom and strip off my shirt.

It looks bad, worse than usual, the skin dry and cracking. Any longer, and it’d start truly hurting, create wounds. I have to do this now. Reluctantly, I get out the tin and apply a thick layer all across the charred and stiff skin. Every moment is repelling, every touch horrendous, but it has to be done, there’s no other option.

I don’t get much sleep that night.

Õ

I don’t bother to hide that as I sulk my way to the coffee machine to get both Azrie’s and my own fill of liquid energy. I know he notices, know he’s going to comment, but mercifully, he refrains from it until I get seated and drinking.

“Rough night?” I stare blankly at him for a moment.

“I forgot my salve last weekend” Azriel’s tanned face pales a little.

“That’s why…” He trails off, but I know what he means, so I nod.

“I dealt with it…” Azriel looks down at his right gloved hand.

“It sucks” I nod.

“Sure does” We both sigh, and silence lingers for a moment, Azriel’s eyes lingering on his hand until they shift to me, to my shoulder.

“You… Why did you…” We never talked about that, did we.

“I heard Eris” His eyes flick up to meet mine. “What he said wasn’t true” I take a huge chug out of my coffee.

“Parts were” I raise an eyebrow at him, and he looks down at the floor between us. “Pinning after Mor is stupid, she’s made her feelings clear enough…” His tone is low, barely audible, but I pick up on it.

“When joy is scarce… we cling to the little we have” I sigh, the teachings of Psychology-class hitting too close to home more often than not. “By clinging to Mor… You cling to a source you can never lose… Because you can’t lose what you don’t have…”

“Ouch” I sigh. “But you’re right… You are…” He lifts his head, shifts his eyes to mine. “How are you always right”

“I can read people well… It’s why I major in human behavior and psychology… And I… I used to do the same, before I lost sight of joy entirely…”

“After what they did” I nod.

“I’d always been in a void of sorts… Clinging to the edge of one. Then I fell down, and for a time I didn’t want to get out… I wanted to succumb to it” Azriel silently listens. “Sometimes I still do…” I silently admit. “Fear of death has kept me going though… Fear of what I’d miss if I… let go”

“I’ve clung to the edge for years… I don’t think you ever get out” I breathe a pained laugh.

“Maybe you don’t have to…” Azriel looks unsure about that. “Maybe you just need a good enough reason to keep holding on” I look down at my desk. “Maybe there’s no such thing as true healing… Wounds leave scars… Mental ones must too” I watch Azriel nod.

“You’re probably right…” Then there’s silence again. “Did you ever get close? To letting go” I swallow down the lump in my throat.

“I did… The first month after…” I take a deep breath. “My level at the hospital had a balcony… In view of my room, just past my door…” I fiddle with my hands as I continue. “I spent weeks contemplating the pros and cons… Until a nurse noticed and… permanently locked it’s door”

“Shit…” I sigh.

“I manage now… Don’t worry”

“When you stood before that window in the music room, you looked ready to leap out of it” I look to him, eyes wide in surprise.

Sure, I’d been thinking about that day, but I didn’t think it showed.

“I was reminiscing about that time… Yes… Wondering whether anyone would have… Cared, had I done it…” I sip some more on my coffee before it grows cold. “The message I sent… It was as much a test to see if anyone would now… As it was me taking a step towards truly starting the fight again… I’m sorry I put that burden on you” Azriel looks stunned before me.

“If I hadn’t come… Would you have…” I shake my head.

“I don’t think so… I’d been shoved down some again… But… By that point I was holding on… Loosely, but… I was holding on…” Azriel nods.

“If you ever… get those kinds of thoughts again, let me know, in whatever way you can” I nod.

“You do too… For any kind of issue… This goes both way” He nods, meekly, but it’s a nod.

I deem it good enough for now.

Õ

“That piece is really coming along Estelle, It’ll look lovely in the library exhibition” My teacher says as she makes her round.

I take a deep breath, aware this would be the eventual goal of this painting, but still.

“Keep up the good work, and feel free to come to me with questions, though I’ve noticed Feyre has personally taken up your schooling” She smiles at Feyre, who blushes faintly.

“I’ve just given minor tips about lighting and what she could add, the how and where has all been her” Our teacher smiles.

“There’s nothing wrong with that, I’m just glad to see Night Court students having each other’s backs” Feyre sighs, and so do I, well aware of the competitive and hostile environment our Court is, even though most my classes are free of them. It leaves me the lone Night Court student, and while most payed me no mind in the beginning other than vary glances, they now deliberately avoid me.

It’s probably for the best.

“When is the exhibition again?” Feyre asks, changing the subject.

“The week before spring brake, due to all midterm tests we situate our more fun activities there to relieve stress off of our students. Your art will be put up for the entirety of that week, and you’re free that Friday, remember that” Feyre smiles.

“I’d forgotten that, actually, good to know, thank you miss Herthag” She smiles.

“Any time Feyre, keep up the good work, both of you” And then she goes on her way.

“We should have a party that Friday…” Feyre contemplates. Then seems to store that thought away for later and goes on with her work.

Õ

“That Friday would be perfect for some partying!” Mor exclaims over lunch.

“Maybe nothing crazy, like, board game night or something” Feyre suggests, which seems to disappoint Mor at first, but then she thinks about it.

“We’d all be tired over mid-terms, wouldn’t we…” She sighs, and everyone agrees, including me.

“I think board games sound fun” Cassian says. “Not at ours though, Razie’s gonna want to join, and I want to be drinking at least if we’re not going out”

“I agree, home wouldn’t work” Rhys says, looking thoughtful as he looks to his cousin. “Your place is a no too” Mor nods, sadness in her eyes.

“I don’t think ours would be the best either” Feyre says with a sigh, and both Nesta and Elain nod their agreement.

The Circle looks to Amren, who sighs.

“I’ve got a one-roomer, not enough space” Everyone looks instantly disappointed.

I poke at my food as I consider my options. Then I set my fork down and look to Azriel, who notices the motion and looks to me expectantly.

 _We can be at my place_. He looks surprised, but nods and relays the message.

“She says we can be at her place” Mor looks to me.

“Would your family be fine with that?” Azriel looks between me and Mor warily. I breathe a sigh and nod at Azriel to spill the beans.

“She lives alone, a decently sized two roomer, we’d fit with some adjusting” I watch as surprise lines everyone’s faces.

“You live alone?” Rhys asks, surprise in his voice, and he looks mad with himself for not realizing it, as he silently pieces the puzzle together in his head.

He’s clever.

“How do you sustain yourself then? Do your parent send you money?” Amren questions and I assume that’s how she manages to live in her little apartment. I shake my head, looking to Azriel.

“She works” Mor visibly pales.

“I didn’t realize… I thought it was just a side thing… I didn’t realize it was your _livelihood_ ” Her face twists into pained apology. “I’m sorry I’ve been ignorant…” I shrug, then sign to Azriel, and he relays it.

“She didn’t tell us, so she can’t put blame on anyone”

“But you knew” Rhysand accuses, and Azriel meets his near violet gaze.

“I did, I’m not obligated to tell you everything about everyone” Rhysand sighs then looks to me.

“You’d be alright with us coming over? It wouldn’t be a bother?” I shake my head, and he nods. “It’s settled then, Friday, the sixteenth of April at Estelle’s place” Everyone nods, but Azriel narrows his eyes at me.

“You have work Friday though” I smile

 _I’ve been told I deserve a break._ I smile Mor’s way, but she looks dumbfound as to why. _I’ll talk to my boss today._

“She’ll take a day off” Mor seems to realize what I might have said, and smiles back at me.

Õ

The discussion with my boss is short, mainly because I wrote out my request on paper before hand, as clearly as I could. And because he denies me.

Apparently there are too many others working here taking that day off, the majority of those who work here students just like me, so unless I can find a replacement for that afternoon, I’m getting nothing. I understand, I do, doesn’t mean I’m any less pissed. He’s been fine with everything I’ve asked before, be they only additional shifts over the holidays, but why would I expect to be allowed a day off just like that?

Mary looks concerned as I step out of that office looking like a blank slate, compared to my more cheery expression as I stepped inside—cheery for being me—but I ignore her concern and get to working.

The next morning, as I sit down to have coffee with Azriel, I give him the news.

“I didn’t get the day off” Azriel’s pleasant face twists into icy anger.

“What?”

“My boss refused me, said too many have taken that weekend off already… I need to find a replacement if I want a shot” Most seem to fume when they’re angry, but Azriel just becomes a frosty freezer.

“You work your ass off in there” I nod.

“I know, but there’s not much I can do” Azriel breathes a deep sigh, cold eyes holding my gaze, his hand shaking a little as he hold his cup. I’m a little worried he might decide to squish it.

“This is unfair” I sigh.

“Life often is…But it’ll be fine, we could come to my place in the evening and stay overnight, or move it to Saturday” Azriel curses.

“He’s exploiting the fact that he knows you can’t leave, he knows you need the money” I nod.

“I’m well aware” He runs a hand through his hair, the only other physical sign of his frustration.

“He can’t do this” I reach out and place my hand on his forearm, noticing his hand clenching as it falls back from his hair. Azriel instantly freezes up.

“It’s fine, Azzy… And… I could just give you my spare key and let you guys play your games while I work… I’d join you later that evening…” Azriel shakes his head softly.

“That’d be wrong” I shake my head right back.

“I’d be fine with it… Really” I pull back my hand, smiling softly. “I promise” He sighs and nods.

Õ

I walk to work today, greet Mary with my usual polite smile before heading into the backroom to get change and stuff away my things, including the helmet I had to carry today, which felt a little dumb, but I have to keep it around most of the time in case Azriel decides I need a ride, which I never complain about, very appreciative of it.

The day is normal, at least until around six, when someone steps through those doors, motorcycle helmet tucked under his arm as usual, but his eyes cold and sharp like icicles, stance tense and radiating cool rage. Mary looks surprised, having seen him in his casual mask enough to spot the change. His eyes meet mine, and I shake my head softly, knowing what he’s doing, what he’s going to be doing.

“Azriel, same as usual?” Mary asks, trying to sound chirpy and calm—, the way she usually meets customers—but it’s a little shaky today.

“No, actually, I’d like to speak with someone” Azriel ignores my pleading eyes and looks straight toward the _staff only_ door, where my boss’s office lays just a door further in, where he spends his afternoons sorting out expenses and paperwork.

“O-oh? And who’s that?” Azriel looks back at Mary, who is tall, but still short compared to Azriel’s looming presence past the counter.

“Your boss, could you get him for me?” Mary’s mouth is left agape for a moment.

“I- I think he’s busy right now, could you write a note instead?” Azriel shakes his head.

“It’s urgent, regarding an employee of his” Mary noticeably gulps, then looks my way, but I keep my eyes on Azriel, not hiding the hint of anger in me.

We came to an agreement, and it was _not_ to make a damn scene at my workplace.

But at the same time… He’s going out of his way to… _Help_ me…

He isn’t going to hurt anyone, I can tell the lethal anger is a way to intimidate, even though he actually is angry about the situation. If he hurts my boss I could lose my job, he knows that, he’s just trying to get his point across. He has even chosen a time when little customers are around.

And he’s doing it for me.

“I’ll… I’ll get him, hold on just a minute” Mary hurries into the backroom, and I make my way to the counter, my eyes conflicting between awe and anger as I meet his.

“What are you doing!” I hiss, my lips barely moving.

“What’s right” He answers calmly, holding my look with defiance.

“One wrong move, and I’m gone from here” I hiss, leaning over the counter, hands flat against the wood tabletop, teeth gritting.

“I’ve looked up other places looking to hire, all with similar hours and pay, don’t worry” My eyes widen, that anger washing off of me, surprise replacing it.

“Why…” Why do this for me, why go out of your way for me.

“Because” His eyes soften, and he places his hand on the counter, his fingertips brushing against mine gently. “You’re worth so much better” My cheeks heat, and I’m left gaping slightly as I hold his gaze. Then a door opens, and I step back, looking to the staff-room door to find Mary and my boss exiting together.

He overlooks me, eyes fixing on Azriel, who holds his gaze calmly as his hands go into his pockets.

“How can I help you, sir?” My boss asks calmly as he takes the spot at the counter, and I silently move away from the scene, but keep close enough in case Azriel actually does something stupid.

“I just have a small issue with how you treat one of your employees” I hate how my boss looks over his shoulder, his eyes drilling into mine. “Is a day off really too much to ask for after nothing but work the past three months?” My boss looks back at him, and I lower my gaze to the floor, but notice Mary’s eyes on me. “It’s just a Friday, you can keep her working eight hours a day all break if you want after, I know she did last break” Mary’s look turns into surprise and disbelief now.

She didn’t work that week. She was off having fun that week.

“I understand your concerns, sir, and it’s not that I want to keep her working as she is, something she willingly does mind you” Azriel tilts his head a little to the side. “There simply aren’t enough folks to replace her that day, almost everyone’s asked for a vacation, she was last, so she got the short straw”

“How far ahead does she need to plan? A year? Two?”

“More than two months would be great” Azriel’s tone is getting sharper, and I wordlessly mouth his name

“I can take her shift alone” Mary inquires, and our boss and I look to her, me in disbelief, he in doubt.

“No, you can’t, the rush-hours will be too much”

“Then she works between ten and two as planned, but I take the afternoon by myself, with school out there won’t be many students rolling in those hours, so I’ll manage, but she’ll be there during work lunch-rush” I only stare at Mary, amazed by the selflessness she is portraying.

We’ve always been on decent terms, slight banter now and then, but this? I never though anyone would go out of their way like this for me, maybe Azzy, but no one else.

“And you’re sure” Mary nods.

“Certain” My boss looks at Azriel, then at me, and I hold his blue-eyed gaze.

“Seems you’re in luck, Estelle. Note the new agreement in your schedule, but don’t send your friends to call me out again”

“She didn’t send me, she actively wanted me to leave, actually” My boss glares at Azriel, then looks back at me.

“If you want any vacation this summer, you better be on time about it” I nod, and he leaves to return to his work.

My focus shifts to Mary, and a large smile spreads across my lips, and Mary smiles too. I mouth a thank you, which only makes her smile wider.

“No problem, I was going to work anyways” She looks to Azriel, whose cold rage has slithered back, his face calm and neutral now. His mask isn’t as harsh outside as it is at school, not quite. “Did you actually want anything?” Azriel smiles faintly.

“The usual” Mary heads for the counter.

“That would be two Sovereigns” I go ahead and sort out said order.

As he goes to get it from me, I silently breathe a word.

“Prick” He chuckles.

“Thank me later, El” He says, taking the mug from my hands. “I’ll stick around and drive you home” I roll my eyes, knowing Mary is soaking up the info. I flip him off and make myself busy.

“So, you and Azriel, huh?” Mary says, sliding up beside me as I clean the bean mixer. I give her an unamused look. “I’m not judging, he’s handsome, mysterious, a little dangerous if my college days serve me right”

I pull out my notebook and scribble some words and shove them in her face.

 _Not a thing. Not dangerous lest you deserve it._ She laughs.

“I know that last part, but the first? You really sure about that?” I roll my eyes and keep cleaning. “I’m just messing with you” Mary sighs. “I’ll get to work” And she leaves me be for the rest of the day.

Õ

Azriel drives me home as he said he would, spending the two hours until closing time working on some essay, and the ride back to my place is silent. When I get off the bike and tug off my helmet, I decide it’s time to say something.

“You didn’t have to do that” He tugs off his own helmet and smiles gently up at me.

“But it turned out good, didn’t it?”

“But why? Why bother?” That smiles shifts a little, the light in his eyes too, the streetlights catching in a way that make them glow this amber with flecks of green.

“I told you why” Such soft words, low and full of warmth. I feel the sensation of his his hands brushing against mine in memory of the moment at the café, and a tingle slithers up my spine.

“Thank you…”

“Any time, El” I sigh, then look towards my apartment, seeing the dark window to my living-room from here.

“I’ll need to refurnish, as you said…”

“The couch can manage three of us, maybe four… We have some beanbags at home, could borrow Cass’s truck and get them here when the time comes” I nod. “Actually, how about I pick you up when you end that day and stay and help arrange things” I look back at him.

“That’d be nice… Could you tell everyone they’ll have to arrange the snacks and all that if I house the thing?” Azriel nods.

“It’ll be done” I smile. “And you’re sure you’re okay with it? They can be loud and obnoxious”

“My neighbors won’t be happy, but I’ll warn them beforehand… And if they become a nuance I’ll just hide in my room for a bit” Azriel grins.

“There’s no escaping the Circle, El” I laugh softly.

“I’ve noticed, I’m never able to shake you off my tail” Azriel’s smile widens.

“You like having me there though” My laugh grows a little louder.

“You’re preferable, sure” Azriel’s smile turns into a grin, and I swear his cheeks darken slightly.

“I should let you head to sleep, goodnight Estelle” I step back a few steps.

“Goodnight Azriel…” I wave softly, and he does too after stuffing his head into his helmet again. Then he’s off, his motorcycle only letting off a slight buzz as he drives into the dusk.

Õ

The next couple weeks pass along, filled with mid-term studying, work, worries about the exhibition and concert, still not sure if I should attend the latter. I could, but would anyone even want to listen to my classical music? I don’t know

On Monday, a few days before my birthday, something happens during music class.

“Jellal hurt his hand in a bike accident, he won’t be able to play the piano during the concert! What do we do Mr Donnaridge?” My head perks up where I’m sat by the grand piano, surprised by one of the band’s sudden loudness in the calm hall, say for my gentle playing.

I stop playing to see what’s happening.

“You could ask some of the other bands if they could lend you a pianist, but I doubt they’ll have the time to learn all the new songs you want to perform” Sarah—I think that's her name, lead singer of her band, and quite good from what I’ve heard—looks very disappointed.

“This _sucks_ ” Filip, the guitarist of their group says with a sigh, and the drummer or bassist nods her silent agreement.

Something, this silent force inside me makes me stand, catching all of their attention. My teacher looks to me with surprise, then what looks like delight.

“Maybe Estelle could play in his stead. I assure you, she’s great at what she does” All of them say for my teacher look wary, curtsy of my mask of calculating and unnerving cold, but I try to look polite as I step away from the grand piano and tug out my notebook to write what I want said, my hand shaky as I do.

I don’t know why I’m doing this, it’d be so easy to ignore their trouble and go on with my life, to not play and never have to go through the nerves of standing on stage, or sitting. But something inside me longs for it too, longs to share the music I adore with the world, share it’s message, and maybe this is my chance for an easier start, not alone on that stage.

I walk up to them and hold out the note.

 _What are the songs?_ My teacher smiles, and Sarah seems to snap out of her discomfort and smiles too, but her co-stars remain vary.

“Common, let me show you” And Sarah takes me to their assembly room.

The songs seem simple enough, and Sarah explains how she wants it to sound and all that minor stuff for a solid ten minutes before I’m actually allowed to try it out. When I do get that chance, it turns out they’re as simple as I figured, the chords fine, the melody not too much.

I’m almost disappointed.

After playing through them all a few times on my own, Sarah and the band discussing their parts together while I do, we decide to give some rehearsing a go. I do fine, and the other’s seem to be warming up to the thought of me, so that’s nice. I still think there are ways I could improve my part, ways I could add to the chords, so I decide to do some research on my own later when I get home.

But first I have to get through work, which is _just_ a blast.

Õ

Thursday, my birthday. I’m officially twenty two. By the mother, I’m getting old. I don’t spend it any differently, don’t do anything out of the ordinary, but I acknowledge that the day has passed once again, and that is that.

It’s like any of my other birthdays, and that’s okay.

Õ

Midterms roll in, and I’m ready, my painting is ready, my hands are ready, both for all the typing and the playing I’ll be doing at the concert.

I’m ready.

I developed my part a little more, showed Sarah and the gang, they liked it, so it was decided that I’d go with it, which was great.

Now, all I have to do is get through this week, then I’ll have Friday afternoon free, along with Saturday. I look forward to it, to the game-night we have planned. I’ve stressed that I don’t have room for them to stay the night, so they’ve arranged rides there and rides home accordingly, so all is sorted as it should.

Just a week, then we’ll have the weekend together we’ve planned for weeks now, months.

They’ll arrive at three, giving me enough time to get changed and sort out the place with Azriel. I’ve already warned my neighbors, and they haven’t objected yet, so that’s nice.

Just these tests, just this concert, then I can have a night of freedom.

The concert is Thursday, and as far as I know, the entire Circle is attending because it’s just something they do, tradition or something. They don’t know I’m playing, and when they asked if I’d stick around for it too, or work, I said I’d be there.

No one questioned in what way.

So I do the tests, bust my ass off trying to do my very best on each, shoving down the nervousness from the concert deep within me to give each test all my focus, until Thursday arrives, and I arrive at rehearsal two hours before the show, half an hour before everyone else.

This band I’ve ended up in consists of Day Court students, and they will all be wearing white and gold to represent that.

We had a debate whether I would wear black to represent my Court, which everyone seemed fine with. Jellal was from the Summer Court and would have worn blue and gold, so it wouldn’t have mattered.

So black it’d be.

And black I wear.

I don a flowing black gown, with long sheer sleeves that cut off at my elbows and flow like wings behind me, tugging in the wind. In the light, its fabric shimmers like moonlight on a night sky, and is the only fancy thing I’ve ever gotten myself.

I found it at a store after grocery shopping one day, and I instantly knew I needed it. It didn’t even cost that much, only a slightly painful dent to my account. So I wear it proudly as I walk through backstage, my hair braided back in a neat braid, flowing gently behind me along with my skirt and sleeves as I make my way to the stage.

I want to see it, prepare, just a little, so I only take a peak from the stairs, looking out towards the rows of seats waiting to be filled.

Azriel will be sitting there, the entire Circle will. They’ll be looking for me, only to find me here, on stage, playing for all to hear.

I see the piano, the same as the one in the music room I think, it’s black surface shiny and polished, the seat just waiting for me to take it.

Soon I will, soon.

Õ

Rehearsal goes fine, I don’t mess up at any point, my fingers precise and on point, and the band and I go back to let the remaining bands get their time. They’re nervous, and so am I, but I don’t let it show. While they discuss things, Sarah giving a pep-talk, I notice my phone buzzing in my bag, and I pick it up and check.

 _Where are you? We’ll be let in soon._ I smile gently at the text.

Oh how he’ll be surprised.

 _I’ll be there on time, don’t worry_.

 _Alright, if you say so._ I lock my phone and stuff it back in my bag.

“We’re gonna _slay_ out there, _we’re gonna be the best band on that stage_ , you hear me!” Sarah stands, for the dramatics. “Say ay if your with me!” Everyone says ay except me, and Sarah laughs, then everyone else do as well, and I even smile a little. “You with us Estelle?” I nod firmly and confidently, but in reality I’m terrified inside.

Õ

We’re around the middle, so all we can do at first is wait for our turn and listen to everyone else. My phone has been buzzing now and then for a while, and I feel bad for worrying him, but he’ll see when the time is right.

He’ll see.

The band’s name, Rays of Summer, is called up, and apparently they’re famous from last year, as people cheer at the mention. The announcer, our teacher, explains that the summer has sadly been taken out of the band this year due to injury, but a kind ray of Moonlight has taken his place.

I don’t care about that announcement as I walk up that set of stairs, last in line, my dark flowing dress and silver jewelry a stark contrast against their white and gold, but I don’t care about that either, no, what I care about is the sheer amount of people cheering for us in that crowd, the sheer amount of faces only slightly illuminated by the shifting spotlights of various colors, the colors of the Courts, while the stage is lit up by a clear white light.

I’m in the spotlight, and it’s terrifying.

I try to spot Azriel and the Circle, but I can’t pinpoint them in the crowd of faces, so I make my way to the piano and sit myself down with as much confidence as I can, my hands shaky as I lift them to the keys, feeling the ivory, pretending to play the notes I have to in the matter of moments, once Julia sets herself up at the bass, and Filip gets his guitar sorted, Sarah already ready at the microphone.

My heart is like a racing horse in my chest, making my hands tremble, and every time I look towards the crowd, it only gets worse. So I don’t look, I school my breathing and keep my eyes on the keys and music sheets, focusing on the task at hand, and as Sarah counts us down, I’m as ready as I can be.

I’m shaky at first, unable to do the fancy things we had planned, but as the crowd fades before me, and the music we’re making fills my ears, the nerves start to lighten. Sarah’s vocals, Filip’s guitar, Julia’s bass and my piano, I hear how it all fits together and lose myself in it, until the piano and I work in harmony, the band and I play as one.

As the song ends and the crowd starts cheering and clapping, I look out at them all in awe, all hundreds of them, cheering for us, enjoying the music I am a part of in making. It fills me with this sparkling and thrilling excitement, and I am beyond ready to play the next one long before the rest of the band is.

It goes well from start to finish, receiving nothing but cheers and clapping, and the third all the same. When all is done, Filip motions for me to come along, and we all step up to the front of the scene together—side by side—and bow, and I just can’t stop smiling.

I feel what a child in a candy store would, I think.

As I straighten again, I spot him, my eyes instinctively finding those hazel ones, finding that wide smile on his face. I smile a little wider, and as we walk off the stage, still cheered on by the crowd, we have a small little after- show band talk, only praise to be given, then I write a note, excusing myself for now, telling them I had a blast, then I’m off to find him.

I hardly have to try, as he’s waiting by the entrance to backstage, and I simply can’t get that smile off my face as I approach him.

“I thought you’d gotten kidnapped or something” Azriel says, still smiling, but I hear the seriousness in his tone.

 _Couldn’t tell you, could I? It’d ruin the surprise._ Azriel shakes his head, then he reaches out and grabs hold of my arm, tugging me into his warm embrace.

It makes my heart skip a beat, and I can hear how fast his own heart is beating in his chest. The crowd disappears around us, distracted by the new band coming up, and I allow myself to savor the feel of his arms around me, the feel of his warmth encasing me. Then he lets me step back just a little, hands still at my sides as he gazes into my eyes.

“You are phenomenal” I smile, laugh gently, then seem to lose myself in those eyes of his.

His gloved hand reaches up and gently caresses my cheek, his eyes looking as lost as mine are right now. The touch sends shivers through my body, pleasant and right. Yet I find myself wishing he’d be rid of that glove. I don’t get the chance to be foolish enough to ask.

“Azriel! Where’d you run off to!” Cassian, that bastard.

We both quickly step away from each other, and I ponder for a moment what exactly happened there, what the hell we were doing. We’re not like that, it’s been the agreement for months now. We’re not that, we will never _be_ that.

Yet he looked like he was as lost as I was, wanted to hold me as much as I wanted to be held.

“There you are! Both of you! Damn Estelle, I didn’t know you could play that well!” Cass brings me in for a hug, but it isn’t the same as Azriel’s, it’s more brotherly, shorter, as he steps back almost immediately. “You had us all worried when you didn’t show, but honestly, that entrance makes up for it” Cass looks to Azriel. “Let’s head back to the others, all of us” He almost seems to ask the last part as he looks to me, and I nod, which results in us all heading to the Circle.

Mor squeals as she seems me, bombards me with a series of compliments regarding my outfit, and then the rest go ahead and give me their praise. Eventually we just sit back and enjoy the rest of the show together, Azriel sat beside me, and I swear his hand brushes mine where it lays on the armrest every now and then. On purpose or not, I can’t tell, but every time he does it, my cheeks bloom into a gentle pink, tingles shooting up my arm and spine.


	7. Embracing the truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lovely night.

Azriel picks me up after work as promised, Cass’s truck filled to the brim with beanbags. I even have to sit with one in my lap, something Azriel makes a point to laugh at as it looks like I’m being swallowed whole, but I don’t mind. Being driven home feels like such a waste of a beautiful day, but we’re in a hurry, I can walk home all day next week. The good thing is that winter is officially gone at this point, has been gone a while, and I don’t need those heavy and annoying clothes anymore.

An issue I’ve realized for the coming summer is that I won’t be wearing any crop tops, which means I’ll get very hot. I’ll deal with it as it comes.

It takes a solid ten to fifteen minutes to just get the beanbags up to my apartment, and from there Azriel take a moment to discuss how to go about this.

“The couch stays where it is, right?” I nod.

“But if we set the beanbags around the coffee-table, we should be fine, right?” Azriel starts hauling just to see.

“Removing the table completely might be an option, give us more space” I nod.

“Could stuff it into my room, or against that wall in case we need it” Azriel nods.

“The latter would be best, we could keep snacks on it maybe”

“True” Azriel lets go of the bright blue beanbag and moves to the table, and I do the same, scooping up the candle stand and remote into my arms to set it aside by the TV for now. Then Azriel proceeds to lift my table on his own and move it to that wall. The short sleeves of his black t-shirt makes the view of his impressive strength clear, but the moment I catch myself looking I look away again, cursing the blush creeping up my cheeks.

Stupid, so stupid. But it’s been there a while, I think, this… _Thing_.

“Get yourself ready, I’ll set up bowls and things” Azriel says as he puts the table in a good enough place to his liking.

“Alright…” So I head to my room and pull out a comfortable but proper outfit.

It’s a pair of stretchy blue jeans and a thin black blouse, along with some clean undergarms and socks. With them in my arms, I head to my bathroom and safely lock myself in before stripping and slipping into the shower. I don’t take long, mainly because I hate every moment I have to touch this burn, every damn second, so I don’t linger. I dry off as quickly as possible as well, if only to get my clothes on and be rid of that sight.

Then comes my hair. I don’t own a hairdryer, I haven’t bothered with the expense, mainly cause I don’t need one, didn’t used to. But now my hair is a wet mess of a fading blonde, and the only option I seem to have is to braid it all back.

Checking the time, realizing I have half an hour to spare before I need to worry about anyone coming over, I decide to go a little extra today, making a French braid instead of a simple plain one. Azriel sounds like he’s doing fine in the other room anyways. It turns out fine, considering how inexperienced I am with these things. I know braids, the regular ones, but French ones take a little longer for me to get right.

As I step out and into the living-space, I find it very cozily set up, the colorful beanbags looking comfy, the couch too, the snack table looking ready for some action, and the dinner table too, chairs stacked up by the wall to leave the round wooden table clear.

“I was thinking we’d serve the pizza either on the counters or the table” Azriel says, revealing himself leaned before the sink, assessing everything and considering what to change.

“I’d rather have the counters free to put the dishes at” Azriel hums.

“I should have gotten paper cups as well, and plastic forks and knives…” He mumbles, but I wave the thought away.

“I can handle the dishes, I don’t have a lot of silverware anyways, we’ll have to be charitable about it” Azriel averts his gaze to me, leaning against the fridge.

“I could stay and help with cleaning, I’ll be staying relatively sober” I look to the side.

“You don’t have to, tomorrow’s my cleaning day anyways… I tried to tidy up last night but I still need to do the rest of everything”

“Depending on the mess, I’m staying to help, we have a tendency to cause a ruckus”

“Alright, fine, just remember, I didn’t make you” I meet his eyes, smiling softly, something he mirrors.

“So, pizza on the table” I nod.

“The snacks on the coffee-table, and drinks” Azriel nods.

“The game of Monopoly on the floor”

“All set” I confirm.

“Now we wait for the tidal-wave of chaos to hit” I laugh.

“You’re so kind to your friends” I say as I push off the fridge, making for the nearest, bright red beanbag.

“ _Our_ friends” Azriel retorts as I plop down on it, sinking deep into the strange thing.

“Right… It’s still strange for me” I mumble, letting myself sink deeper. Azriel comes over and takes a seat in the beanbag to the right of me, a bright purple one.

“What is?” He knows damn well what I mean, but I guess he wants me to say it, openly admit it, to both him and myself.

“Having friends… People I can… Trust… I’ve never had that… Ever” Yet I don’t truly trust these people, some deep rooted fear does not allow me to, evident by the fact that I hide the truth from them, of me, of my past.

“I felt the same before I ended up with Rhys and Cass… Took me a while to even remotely trust them”

“Do you still hide things from them?” Azriel nods, his hair getting into his face. He needs a haircut soon, if you ask me, or he’ll need a man-bun like Cass has.

“Sometimes, I like me some privacy now and then, but I still trust them, most of them with my life” I look down at my feet, wiggle my toes just to have something to do as I think.

“I want to trust them… I… I hate lying to their faces…” I take a deep breath. “They deserve to know the truth… I don’t think I could verbally tell them my story, but… Maybe they at least deserve to know what the rest of the world already does, what that article broadcasted to them all” Azriel goes silent for a moment.

“That article reached us here in Prythian… Mor was fuming about what happened for weeks, we all were… I didn’t know it was you though, until you made me check it and I connected the dots, no one knows… But if you say your name, your full name, they’d know” I nod slowly.

“I wonder how they haven’t read my work badge…”

“I wonder why I didn’t think about it before either… I guess we already knew your name, there would be no need to check it” I sigh.

“I’ll tell them… At some point tonight… I’ll say my name, come clean about my silence and… Face that demon head on” I look to Azriel, wavering certainty in my eyes. He smiles, reaching out to grasp my hand, encasing it, but doesn’t grab hold. Either way, the soft touch makes my skin crawl with electricity, in a pleasant yet strange way.

“And I’ll be there with you” I smile, my heart growing faster in my chest.

“Together” I breathe, moving my thumb to grab hold of the tips of his fingers carefully.

“Together” He answer, the word like a breathy whisper, his fingers curling to hold on to my hand a little closer.

A knock at the door pulls us out of whatever that was, and we both quickly pull back our hands to ourselves, I standing to answer it while Azriel lingers in his beanbag for a moment longer, until I hear him breathe a long sigh, then shoot to his feet to follow me.

Past the door is none other than the Circle, all of them, so on time it’s almost unnerving, but I smile at them and step aside to let them in.

“Get your filthy shoes off before you step off of that rug” Azriel says calmly from where he’s leaned against the wall, right before the bathroom door.

“Sounds like you’ve moved in Azzy” Rhys says, following the order swiftly before stepping into the corridor to face his brother, carrying a bag of what looks like board games. Azriel gives him a glare, and Rhysand laughs, shifting his gaze to my home, something the rest of the chattering group do as well as they sort out their shoes and get inside.

“This is pretty homey” Cass admits as he takes in the view, setting down his box of what I assume is alcohol by the place Azriel wordlessly guides him to, silently beginning to set it all up.

“Yeah, could use some paintings on the walls maybe” Feyre admits, and I agree, the few picture frames I have little to cheer about, made by me and nothing but sketches. I’ll be hanging up the painting from school when I get it home eventually though.

“I think you lack flowers” Elain’s sweet voice brakes through the chatter. “But it’s lovely still” Her eyes land on the setup of beanbags and the couch, and I watch her eyes flicker with joy. “Very cozy”

“Better than what mine looks like, good job” Amren says, giving me a nod of approval. Nesta gives one as well.

“This place is perfect!” Mor exclaims, last in line, and hauling quite a large number of bags, all filled to he brim with snacks, which Azriel take from her with a glare at Rhys.

“Why’d she carry it all” Rhys looks to Mor with a smirk.

“We agreed that if she bought all those snacks, she’d haul them up her herself. She wasn’t aware of the stairs” Everyone laughs, and so do I as I close and lock the door behind them all, officially marking the night as started.

“No wonder you’ve got legs of a goddess, you gotta get up those stairs every damn day” Mor sighs, wiping off either real or pretend sweat from her brow. I just smile and help Azriel get the drinks we won’t be displaying yet into the fridge.

“So” Rhys says, plopping himself down on the couch, bag of games in his lap, something I watch in the corner of my eye. “What should we start with?” Mor takes a seat in one of the beanbags, Feyre beside Rhys, Amren beside her, Nesta squeezes in beside her, Cassian on a beanbag by her feet, Elain beside Mor, leaving two beanbags free before the TV for me and Azriel.

“Alias’ fun” Mor says, but then her eyes go to me and she pauses, and I smile softly before getting the last bit of alcohol into the fridge and making my way to the beanbags, taking the seat on the one beside Elain.

“Alias requires talking, which would be an issue” Rhys continues, realizing the same. “Not sure why I brought it”

“Do we save monopoly till later?” Feyre asks beside him, and Rhys nods, everyone else too.

“We want some fun and games before the real deal starts” Cass says with a grin.

“Cards against humanity then? If someone reads the cards for her” Amren suggests, and I slowly begin to realize that I might have to do this much earlier than I thought.

“How about we start with some drinks and snacks, I’ve set it all up” Azriel says from the coffee table, and everyone practically shoots out of their seats, say Nesta and Amren who remain fairly uninterested, and sweet Elain who waits a moment.

In the chaos, I slip away into my room, giving myself a moment to breathe, to brace for what I know I have to do if this night is to be truly enjoyable.

But what will they say? Will it ruin the mood for the rest of the night?

I step out before anyone takes notice, but Azriel’s past that door, two glasses of _something_ in his hands—probably alcoholic—and a knowing look in his eyes.

_I have to do it now_. He nods softly and hands me one of the glasses, and I down the whole thing in just a few chugs, then let out a long sigh.

“I’m with you” I nod gently, looking to where the Circle is slowly gathering.

But where do I start?

By getting to my seat, I suppose. I can’t do this standing. So I get to that beanbag, sit down as straight as I can, and clear my throat just a little, giving Azriel a glance as he sips on his drink, his eyes lingering on me as well.

_Could you get their attention?_ He nods, then proceeds to set his glass aside on the TV stand and clear his throat.

“Before we get bat-shit drunk, Estelle would like to share some words” Everyone looks to Azriel, his silence often so deep that any word from him in conversation immediately draws everyone’s attention.

“Well, shoot, before we get this going” Cass say, tipping his glass and drinking heartily.

“Yeah, we’re listening” Feyre agrees, looking to both me and Azriel. I take a deep breathe, allowing myself one last glance at Azriel before I let my gaze fall to the floor before me.

“I haven’t been honest” I say softly, my voice a shaky mess, and the silence after is deafening, Cassian choking on his drink the only sound for a moment.

“Wait, you speak?!” I look to him, still in the midst of coughing his lungs up. Nesta slaps the back of his head to make him shut up, those steely eyes soft somehow as she looks at me, like she too knew something wasn’t quite as it seemed with me. Amren has a similar look in her eyes.

“I do… I’m sorry… I… Chose to be silent for an array of reasons” I pick at my nails, to keep my nerves from consuming my head. Rhys looks at me as stunned as everyone else for a moment, then his eyes shift to Azriel.

“You know already” He states more than asks. Azriel nods either way.

“She didn’t want me telling anyone, I respect that” Rhys looks back at me, question in his eyes.

“Why? I’m not mad, I don’t think any of us are, just curious. Your act was very convincing” Everyone nods their agreement. For a moment, my words get caught in my throat, my mouth left agape.

“I-I… I ripped my vocal cords a few months back…” Not a lie. Confusion lines all their faces, but only Nesta has the guts to push.

“Doing what” She questions coldly, which hands her disapproving looks from Mor and Feyre , and even Elain. The boys and Amren seem more focused on me, Amren studying me closely, like a puzzle she is trying to solve.

“Screaming…” I breathe, the word too vile for me to properly get out. Nesta’s eyes widen slightly, and hints of emotions I don’t quite catch flash on her face. “I think my name will ring a bell…” I mumble, looking to Mor specifically.

She looks both confused and concerned.

I try to swallow down the lump in my throat, but it seems permanent. I decide to try anyways.

“Estelle Dreever…” Mor pales, every damn person in the room pales, and their eyes become too much to bare, their gazes, so defiling and unnerving.

“You… You’re…” Mor tries to get it out, but doesn’t seem to find the words.

“How the _hell_ haven’t we figured it out already” Cass breathes, looking to the rest of the Circle.

“I don’t know” Rhys admits, a hand rubbing at his face, his expression a mix of horror and rage. “I have no fucking idea” I wish I could melt into the beanbag right now.

“I didn’t intend for anyone to know… I wanted to leave it all behind me… But Eris and his brothers wouldn’t allow that…” The rage in their eyes grows.

“What did they do to you” Amren says calmly, yet I see the promise of murder in her eyes. Not directed at me, of course.

“They… sought me out when I was alone… I got away, but… Only ‘cause of Azriel…” I look to him, filled by this sense of relief by the fact that he’s there, just a heartbeat away form me.

“Did they hurt you” I shake my head.

“Fell down a set of stairs, but I’ve had worse” I look to the floor. “Kicked Eris in the nuts though” That grants me some snorts, which I’m glad for, not able to take this seriousness for much longer, this vulnerability.

“It makes so much sense… The way you acted when I touched your shoulder…” Mor’s eyes glaze over as she makes the connection. “The way you acted before that dinner… When we…” Her eyes snap to mine, filled with regret and pain. “I’m _so_ sorry, Estelle” I smile softly.

“You couldn’t have known, none of you, because I didn’t want you to… But now you do, and I’d… I’d like to get on with the fun… Cards Against Humanity sounds interesting” They seem reluctant, but nod their agreement, and I breathe a sigh as Rhys pulls out the black box and other smaller ones with it.

“Never played it before?” Cass questions, and I shake my head. “Rhys, run through the rules”

“Well, basically, everyone gets five white cards each, which contain phrases or words, all fucked up in their own glorious ways. One of us’ll be the card Czar and pull a black card which will contain a question, a phrase with a blank we have to fill, or two, or statements. Us who aren’t the card Czars have to use the white cards to make up fucked up things. The one the Czar likes the most gets the black card as a point” I nod slowly. “Simple enough, right?” I nod a little more firmly.

“I think I’ll manage” Rhys smiles, genuine, though haunted by something, different from the way everyone else look devastated by the truth I shared. It’s like he’s remembering things, other things he’s experienced himself. The way Feyre clings to his arm, running her hand up and down it soothingly, suggests she knows about it

Azriel was burnt and abused, Cass abandoned and mistreated, according to Azriel’s light briefing. Could Rhys have been… Hurt in some way too? Not by family, but… Someone else?

“Then let’s begin”

The cards are dealt, and I’m met with a mix of horror and amusement as I take a look at the cards I’ve been dealt.

This game will be fun.

Rhys is given the honor of starting as the Czar, and he grins for a moment before reading the black card out for us.

“Next from J-K Rowling: Harry Potter and the Chamber of blank. Let the fucked up begin everyone” Rhys says and sets the card down on the floor before us all, and we all take a moment to pick a card to fill the blank.

I don’t know what to choose, but I pick something and set it in the pile with everyone else’, feeling a little nervous about the pick. Rhys gives all eight cards a shuffle, then picks the first to start reading.

“Harry Potter and the Chamber of… Explaining how vaginas work…” Rhys just looks disappointed, then looks to Cassian, who is grinning like an idiot. “Do you need to redo sixth grade sex ed, Cass?” Cassian laughs.

“No? Harry needs to know the way” Rhys just shakes his head and moves on to the next card.

“Harry Potter and the Chamber of Explosions… Honestly I wouldn’t be surprised, Hogwarts’ a strange place” Everyone get a chuckle out of that, more or less. “Eh, Harry Potter and the Chamber of Italians” It gets a snort out of Rhys. “All arguing about what pasta’s the best” More laughter. “Harry Potter and the Chamber of basic human decency, man, some in here really need to visit that chamber” He gives Cass a glance, and he flips Rhys off in answer. Nesta looks wholly amused by The onslaught on Cass.

Maybe that’s her card.

“Harry Potter and the Chamber of Cuddling… That’s just sweet” Rhys smiles, and from how Elain blushes, I assume that’s hers. “The Chamber of Necrophilia-” Rhys loses his wording as he starts laughing, many others doing the same, though Azriels deep and soothing laugh is the one I listen the closest to.

Seems my humor works, though I might have adapted a little for their sense of humor.

“Mother, that’s fucked” Rhys says, setting the card down on the floor, looking a little uncomfortable doing so from the couch, but he doesn’t complain. “Okay, two more, eh… Harry Potter and the Chamber of bitches, sounds like my kind of party” Feyre elbows him in the side. “Shit! I’m joking!” We all laugh at his expense. “The Chamber of the gays.” Rhys grins.

“So just a closet, then” Amren says, causing us all to burst into laughter.

“Just a long book about Dumbeldore and Harry getting it on in a closet” Cass continues, and everyone laughs and cringes in disgust at the same time.

“I think I have to pick the gays” Rhys announces, still laughing, and Mor does a fist-pump of victory.

“The gays always win” Mor cheers, then reaches for the black card, gathering all the used cards into a pile, then we all get our new white card and the turn shifts to Mor.

“Alright! My turn, let’s get the fucked up rolling” Mor says after a hearty chug out of her glass, reaching for a black card from the pile. “What makes life worth living” I sigh.

If only I knew.

I take a look at my cards and find one I think might work, but I'm not confident.

We all pick our cards, then the reading begins.

“Okay, let’s see. What makes life worth living? Getting fingered… I vibe with that” Everyone snorts, though Azriel remains noticeably quiet. “What makes life worth living? Fisting. Good one too”

“Mother, Mor” Rhys says with a huge grin, and I think its mainly because Elain is slowly turning into a flustered tomato beside me and her.

Everyone else seem amused though, and I am too.

“Relax Rhys, it’s just a game. What makes life worth living? Arnold Schwarzenegger. Damn straight. What makes life worth living? The arrival of the pizza. Honestly, when are we ordering pizza?” Mor looks to Azriel.

“I was thinking like four” She nods and goes on with it.

“What makes life worth living? Not wearing pants. This is true on a spiritual level” Considering Mor almost always wears skirts of some kind, especially these days, I wonder if she truly doesn’t wear anything beneath. From Azriel’s gentle blush, I’d say he’s thinking something similar.

I don’t know why, but that knowledge makes me feel iffy.

“What makes life worth living? Free samples” This one, while mine, hits so close to home it’s more sad than fun.

It gets some pity laughs.

“What makes life worth living? A big black dick. Amren, are you self-projecting?” Amren only smirks wickedly.

“It’s true” We all laugh in unison.

“Oh Varian, he really has a handful to deal with, doesn’t he” Mor sighs.

“More than a handful” Amren purrs, and Mor waves off her words—Elain starting to melt into the bean bag—and goes on with it, one card left.

“What makes life worth living? Bananas. Shit, so many of these were good! But I think the big black dick has to get the win” Amren reaches out her hand and accepts her point with a smirk across her red lips.

Then it’s Elain’s turn.

She picks a card, and her cheeks somehow flush redder as she opens her mouth to read it aloud.

“What will always get you laid…” I never thought I’d hear those words come out of sweet Elain’s mouth, nor did I ever think I’d be able to stomach the concept of sex. I suppose the fact it’s just a card game and not actual physical interaction should play a part.

I’m not the only one who find sweet Elain’s red cheeks amusing as we browse our cards. Elain seems reluctant as she picks up the pile of cards and starts shuffling them. Even more so as she moves to read them.

“What will always get you laid?” The words are spoken as softly as before. “Viagra…” Everyone burst out laughing at various intensities, mainly because Elain sounds so freaking embarrassed, but even she is laughing lightly. “Can I just go through them without repeating?” She asks gently.

“Of course, whatever makes you comfortable” Feyre says, and Elain smiles and looks at the next card.

“The milkman” Snorts sound all around.

“If he’s already at the door, you know” Mor jokes, making the laughter grow louder in the room. I hold mine at a decent volume, but I do laugh, and it feels lovely.

“Powerful thighs”

“Need them legs”

“Being a woman, being awesome at sex, bisexuality” Elain speeds through the rest, settling on a seemingly random card, granting Cass a pity point at best.

He’s happy either way.

We play for a while, until Amren turns into the victor. By then it’s pizza time, and we sort out what every one wants, then Rhys makes the phone-call and orders the delivery to my door. From there we wait, discussing how mid-term week went, drinking some, snacking some.

I mainly go for coke at this point, because I don’t want to get too drunk, but I have a pleasant time either way.

The chaos as the pizza arrives is less lovely.

Rhys is kind enough to pay, and as he sets the three boxes of family sized pizza onto my table, the whole crowd flocks to it. I keep my distance, Azriel as well, but as it dwindles out and everyone gets comfortable in their seats with their pizza, I dare get myself a slice.

I can’t quite recall the last time I ate pizza. This will be interesting.

I sit myself down on my beanbag, taking a moment to figure out how to most efficiently eat this slice. Cassian is simply devouring it with his bare hands, as is Mor and most of everyone else. Only Azriel got himself a set of silverware, but considering he wears gloves, I can figure that he doesn’t want to mess them up more than he has to. I go for the hand technique, to lessen dishes as much as I can. It’s messy, and I spill like half the topping back onto my paper plate, but I eat it.

Azriel finds my struggle much too amusing though, and I give him a few sharp glares now and again. Yet every time I look at him I just think of how he’d held my hand, how he hugged me the day before, how he… What’s wrong with me?

“What say you, should we bust out the Monopoly?” Rhys asks, setting aside his empty plate.

“Yaaas, let’s get this shit started!” Mor exclaims, still pizza in her mouth.

“We should clean up a little first” Azriel says, looking at the plates scattered around. I rise to my feet.

“I’ll get a trash bag” I say then head to get it done.

With all plates in the bag, the floor between us all cleared, we begin to set up monopoly, Azriel handling the money while the rest pick their avatars.

They have a strange edition of Monopoly, with a lot of strange avatars and a lot more money than most. Made for more people, that’s for sure.

Rhys picks a crescent moon, Feyre a star, Mor a cat, Elain a flower, Azriel a cocooned bat, Cassian a bat with it’s wings spread wide, Nesta a book, and Amren a dragon. It leaves me with a lot of options, and I spend some time finding one I like.

There’s this owl, and recalling what Amren once said, I decide that it does resonate with me, and set it on the start square along with everyone else's.

“May the best capitalist win” Rhys announces, and the game begins.

Õ

By the mother are they competitive, it’s a freaking war zone, and I’m right in it, winning silently in the background as they fight about the most stupid of shit. Azriel and Amren are doing fine too, so is Feyre, but holy shit are the others just fighting.

I’m so sorry neighbors

Even if it is an absolute mess, it’s also the most fun I’ve had in ages. But I'm growing a headache, slowly, perhaps due to the loud noise. Probably because of the loud noise.

I think I’ll manage though.

We play for hours, _hours_ , until Azriel comes out victorious, which everyone is furious about for the fact that he apparently always wins. I’m just happy for him, and so tired.

While they get everything together, I sneak to the bathroom, just to get a breather, and because downing almost an entire bottle of coke on your own makes you need a piss. By the time I come back, it’s all done, and we realize we have to come up with what else to do. It’s one in the morning, and they said they’d get a ride home at some point around two, so I’m not sure what we can do in that span of time.

Turns out Alias is on the menu.

A very fun game, stressful, but fun, but all things must come to an end, and the gang’s ride arrives and calls Rhys at just about two.

They all help get the things to the kitchen while I gather the remaining alcohol into a bag for them to take back home. Azriel stays behind to help clean the mess, which grants him a few teasing remarks from the Circle, but Azriel just shoves them out and tells them to get their drunk asses home and that Cass’s truck will be home sometime tomorrow. Personally, their remarks make my cheeks heat, recalling the way we woke up last time he spent the night here.

With them all gone, Azzy turns to me.

“I could go out with the trash, where do I do it?” I consider for a second.

“It’s in the basement floor… I can go, I know my way around there” Azriel nods slowly.

“I’ll… start clearing the dishes then” I step in to get the bags of trash.

“Remember, I didn’t tell you to stick around, this is voluntary”

“I know” He says as he settles before the sink, drawing the water.

The walk to the basement is long, and as creepy as always, but by making it a relatively quick back and forth, I am soon making my way up the stairs again and start collecting the largest and most obvious pieces of trash littered around, throwing them in the bin beneath the sink, shooing Azzy away for just a second.

He answers by splashing some water on me, and I answer by lightly punching his arm.

“Prick” I hiss with a grin on my face, but he just flicks some more water on me.

“Scared of some water?” He teases.

“No! Just don’t feel like getting dish water all over me” Azriel grins, the look so right on his face, so bright and joyous.

“You look tired” I sigh and nod.

“I’ll get ready for bed, if you don’t mind, then I’ll help set up the couch for you” He nods, and then I’m off.

Brushing my teeth is thorough but efficient, getting my braid out too, leaving my hair in soft fluffy curls. Changing into my baggy pajamas is also efficient, then from there, I pull out some sheets from the closet and get to sorting out the couch. By the time I sit down atop it with a sigh, Azriel’s done with the dishes and comes to sit down beside me with an equally loud sigh.

“What a day…” He mutters, reaching one of his hands up to massage his brow.

“Indeed… I had fun though…” Azriel looks to me, a gentle smile on his lips.

“I’m proud of you” I feel my heart skip a beat.

“I… I was scared… But… I did it” I smile back.

“You did” He looks down at his hands, and it gets me wondering.

“Do you ever take them off?” He remains perfectly still for a sold few seconds.

“When I’m alone” He says softly, his left hand going to the right, massaging it softly.

“Are you scared of what others would think or just… Don’t what to see it yourself”

“Both, in ways… I’m disgusted by it… and I don’t want the looks of pity from everyone around me, or the stares” I nod, my feelings so similar.

“I know how you feel… truly” Azriel sighs.

“You’re the only one who does… Everyone in the Circle have their own things, things that have brought us together, but… No one understands what it’s like to have these permanent marks… Not Rhys, not Cass, not Feyre, not Amre, not Nesta, not Elain… And not Mor… they have scars, sure… but scars fade with time”

“Burns are permanent” Azriel nods.

“I’ve been such a fucking idiot” He leans back against the backrest, eyes closed.

“Why?”

“I thought Mor understood, but in reality she just never gave a damn. Didn’t care about my boundaries, my feelings… Nothing…” I gently let my left hand rest atop his right, feeling him tense at first, then calm back down again.

“I think she cares… Just… Mor tries to be cheery as much as possible, that doesn’t work for you though” He nods softly. “And Azriel… That thing Eris said… About your hands…” He hums a low yes as I let my thumb run along the top of his hand. “It’s not true… There are people out there who wouldn’t find your hands repelling…” I lift my gaze to his. “I don’t think I would… Because I don the same thing on my own skin… Know what it’s like” Azriel smiles, but it’s pained in this strange sort of way.

“I want to believe you, but it’s… Bad…” I smile softly.

“Mine is too…” I let my eyes trail down to the hand I’m still holding. “If… If I saw yours… I’d let you see mine… A fair trade…” Azriel looks shocked as I meet his eyes again.

“Why would you…”

“Because I want to trust you, and I want you to trust me…” I hold on to his hand a little tighter, yet gentle enough not to put much pressure.

“El…” His eyes lower to the hand I’m holding, contemplation in his eyes.

Then he moves, left hand slowly pealing off my hand, and I think he’s made his choice to deny me. But then he starts tugging off the glove on his right hand, and I feel my heart raise in my chest.

As it comes off, pealing away like a second skin, Azriel flexes his hand for a second, chucking the glove somewhere onto the floor. I can tell his hand is shaking, know that he is shaking, so I gently lay my hand on his upper arm, ignoring the feel of his hot skin beneath my fingers, trying my best to convey whatever calm I have.

But I’m shaking too, so there’s that.

His hand is so much like my shoulder, the skin darkened and strange, and while I often look at myself in the mirror and only feel disgust, I don’t feel any at all as I see that hand.

Taking a deep breath, I sit up straight and reach my hands up to unbutton the top buttons of my shirt, ignoring how my cheeks burn at the thought of what this would look like under other circumstances, too preoccupied with the distraught quaking through me at the thought of what I’m about to do to care.

My hand is shaky as I move to push away most of my sleeve, not about to strip entirely for him, and it takes all of my willpower to get it done. There’s only silence, and for a long time I don’t dare to look at him, though my body is shaking, aware that he is looking at me.

“Estelle…” I can’t stop shaking, I can’t look at him, I-

A hand, a gloved and gentle hand lands at my cheek, slowly bringing my face his way, his hazel eyes locked on my face as I fully behold him.

“You’re lovely” I simply stare at him, stare into those warm eyes, full of emotions I cannot place, my own heart filling with something indescribable of its own. “Body, mind and soul, there’s noting I’d change” I try to breathe, but it comes out like a shaky sob.

“ _Azriel_ ” My voice quivers as I breathe his name, and Azriel’s eyes narrow in a lazy way that gets my blood pumping.

“Not a single thing…” His thumb gently strokes my cheek. “You may not see it, just like I don’t see myself as anything… But you are more than your scars, so much more” I shakily reach my hand up to cup the one at my cheek, tears filling my eyes.

“So are you…” I whisper, voice a quivering mess. “We’ll learn to see it… Together” Azriel smiles, leaning his head forward, resting his forehead against mine.

It stuns me for a moment.

“I think… The grounds of our agreement has… changed slightly” Azriel mumbles softly, caution to his voice.

“What?” It’s an airy, breathy sound of disbelief.

“I… You know what I said… I was still blinded by my infatuation with Mor… I didn’t see the thing we had… A relationship of trust… Not just one-sided admiration” I’m at a loss for words as I gaze into his lovely hazel eyes. “I… I’ve slowly realized it… What this thing I feel with you is…”

“I- Azriel I-” He closes his eyes with a sigh.

“I know… What was done to you… I don’t expect you to want anything to do with me” Yet this, this pure vulnerability he’s granting me, emotional and physical vulnerability… It urges me to tell my part.

“I never thought I’d _feel_ anything for _anyone_ again, yet… When I’m with you I… I watch you and I… _Feel…_ ” I take a shaky breath. “I trust you with my soul, and I… Want to trust you with my heart… Trust you with the broken pieces you’ve been putting together” I feel Azriel’s bare hand gently trail up my left arm, touch so feather-light I almost don’t feel it at first. It makes me shudder, in an equal times pleasant and unpleasant way, two parts of my psyche fighting within me. One that trusts him, wants to do so fully, then one that trusts no one to ever touch me again.

“I’d trust you with mine if you trust me with yours…” Such soft, gentle words as that hand snakes higher, nearing the still exposed skin of my shoulder.

“There are _things_ I wouldn’t be able to give you…” So close, that hand, that scarred and mangled hand, whose touch I both want and do not.

Not because it’s him, but because it’s a touch at all.

“I know… _That_ is something I don’t need”

“But…” just a little higher and he connects with skin. I know I’m shaking, quivering in answer to the war inside me, and the terror of this vulnerability I am allowing myself.

“I’d never force you to do anything, never make you feel like you have to. We take this the pace we need… We do this… Together…” His hand brakes the edge of my silky shirt, scarred hand connecting with the scars I bear, the feel of it… Right, yet absolutely terrifying because of it.

His thumb does a soft sweep over my collarbone and lower neck, sending shudders all through my body, sending my heart pumping faster, blood rushing through my body, to my cheeks.

“Together…” I whisper in acceptance, because as much as my body recoils at being touched, I want it just as much, if not more.

His face leans in a little closer, hot breath hitting my skin, my lips.

“El… I… Can I…” I grip the hand at my cheek a little tighter.

“ _Yes_ ” I breathe, and I catch the quiver to his breathe before he slowly leans in, locking his lips with mine.

Soft, so soft, so gentle, so right, every slow motion tender and careful, sending ripples of electricity down my spine.

I move my hand from his to his arm, holding on tight, my other reaching up to his chest, holding on to his shoulder as he dose mine.

Perfect, more than I ever dared to dream, ever dared to hope.

But then he leans forward more, bringing me down with him, and a jab of panic rushes though me, and I grip his shoulder tightly, shove him back a little. He pulls back, and as I open my eyes, apology is in his, while I know mine are haunted, sights of things I wish I could forget flashing in my mind.

“Was that how…” I nod slightly.

“Not quite as… lovely but… He made sure I saw him” Azriel nods, his thumb wiping off a tear I didn’t realize I was shedding. “He… Shares some of your features” That makes Azriel’s tanned face pale, eyes fixing on mine. “His hair was black… not with the brown shades like you… But… And… his build was strong but… Leaner, but… You don’t remind me of him, not beyond that… Your eyes are calm yet capable of such kind warmth, such a bright amber-like hazel… His were… Black as charcoal and cruel… My own remind me of them… and his skin was paler, but…”

“I get it, any reminder is hard to deal with… And I… I’m sorry… I got carried away… Do you… Still want to stay here or… Should you head to bed”

“I’ll stay…” I let the grip of his shoulder loosen, letting it trail down to his chest.

I watch as Azriel’s eyes sparkle with a thought, an idea, and he quickly voices his thoughts.

“Can I… I think I know something that might help” I raise an eyebrow, which he takes as invitation, and the hand at my cheek moves down, hooking beneath my knees, the hand at my shoulder looping around my back, and in a swift and strong motion, he sets me down in his lap. “Better?” My face must be beet red, but I smile either way, because Azriel’s cheeks are just as dark.

“Y-yeah” I let my arms rest around his neck, his right resting around my back, hand at my waist, and his left running gently up and down the outside of my lower thigh. Azriel smiles, the sight so bright, his eyes sparkling as he looks into mine.

“You’re eyes are more than black” He says softly. “The hints of gold around your pupil… the specks of gray around the edges… they look like the sun during a solar eclipse, they’re gorgeous” I smile. “Mor is beautiful, I’ll never be able to deny that, I hope you can understand” I nod softly. “But you… I’ve never seen anyone so unique and special… Otherworldly… Like an angel…”

“I… I don’t know what to say… Thank you seems too bland” Azriel lets out a soft laugh.

“You don’t have to say anything” He mumbles, lifting his head closer to mine, lips so inviting and soft.

I get the hint.

Now, I’m not a good kisser, I’ve been kissed once, twice now I guess, but that’s it. Though I guess I’ll go for it.

It’s sloppy, but Azriel takes over the moment my lips lock with his, guiding me along as we move in this gentle dance. I notice his hand trailing up my back, combing into my hair, the touch sending shudders of good through my body.

I could stay like this all night.


	8. Together

It’s warm when I wake up, warm and comfortable, a steady beat thumping beneath my ear, something running through my hair slowly and gently. It takes a while before I wake up enough to realize why, realize that the familiar heartbeat beneath my ear is Azriel’s, the hand in my hair his, the one he keeps at my lower back as well.

I’m on him, much like last time he slept over, but this time—even though it makes me feel flustered and strange—I don’t immediately try to get away, savoring the feel of him, something I’ve craved for much too long, a closeness I might have craved all my life honestly, but never thought I’d be able to stomach after everything.

But this, like this I’m in control, and that helps a lot.

“I know you’re awake” Azriel mumbles, his tone a deep morning rasp, but he keeps doing his soothing combing through my hair, which isn’t really a motivator to get up.

“Are you complaining...?” I ask softly, my voice a little rough too, but pleasant enough.

“Not at all” He murmurs, and I feel his head shift, the reason why answered as his lips connect with my brow. “Just… I need to pee” I smile, then move my head to look up at him. His hair’s an absolute me, and I can figure that mine is too

“Let go of me then” He smiles and untangles his fingers from my hair, unwinding his arm from my back, and I carefully crawl off him and get to my feet before the couch. The couch creaks as Azriel sits up, and I hear his body pop as he does some light stretching, but I head to the kitchen, still blushing red, but too hungry to care right now.

I put some toast in the toaster while Azriel tends to his needs, setting the table with glasses and putting back the chairs while I’m at it. By the time I’ve put out the butter and sat myself down with my toast—spreading said butter onto it—I hear Azriel open the door, and soon he rounds the corner to the kitchen.

“Made you toast” I say, motioning at the toaster, and Azriel goes ahead and grabs his then sits down at the table, opposite of me. He looks at my hair, then grins. I answer it with a slight glare, then reach my hand up and try to tame the beast. “Your fault” I grumble, and the blush deepens on his cheeks.

“You liked it” His words alone make me shudder. I answer with a soft grumble, continuing to sort out my hair.

We calmly have breakfast, until the issue of getting all the beanbags home comes into question.

“I gotta get Cass’ truck home soon, in case he has other weekend plans… So I’ll have to leave with them soon” He says, setting down his glass of water.

“You don’t sound thrilled” Azriel sighs.

“I prefer your company” I smile, looking down at the tabletop as I sip on some water. That’s when I realize my sleeping shirt is still partially open, but I figure I’m going to get changed soon enough.

“You could always come back… We could… Watch that movie you mentioned before… Ehhh, Lord of the rings?” Azriel looks to be considering.

“That’s better suited for a marathon weekend… And I’m going to the gym later… You too if your up for it” I look up, then to the side.

“I don’t think the rest of the Circle are going to be up for it… Maybe we can have that duel we talked about” Azriel’s face lights up at the thought.

“Sure… Then you could pack your gear, come home with me, then we head to the gym together?” I nod.

“Sound like plan…” I look to the clock, just past eleven. “I should get that sorted, maybe you could start getting the bags to the truck” I say as I stand, chugging the last bit of water, and Azriel nods his agreement.

After sorting myself out in the bathroom it’s a quick change into a pair of black jeans and a light blue shirt, then I stuff my bag with my workout stuff, and with my hair braided back as usual—motorcycle helmet beneath my arm, and light jacket on for the spring weather—I help Azriel get the last bags out, lock the door behind us, and get to the car.

We haven’t really discussed last night. Honestly, I don’t think we need to. We said we’d do it together, and there’s really not much more to it. It doesn’t have to be something open to the world, something we spend our every waking moment on, it just is, and that’s that.

I do allow myself the pleasure of holding his hand as he rests it on the gear lever, gloved now, and while he doesn’t hold back it’s mainly because he has to make sure he can shift the gears. Don’t want to have a car crash, do we.

We pull up at their house, parking Cass’ truck in the garage, then we start the hauling. Ramona crosses our path in the hallway, and she looks inclined to say something, then just laughs and motions for us to do what we’re supposed to. She’ll get back to us if it was terribly important. So we get the beanbags back where they belong, all five of them, then I sit myself down at Azriel’s desk while he gather’s his gear for our little sparring fun.

While he tears through his wardrobe, I take a look at his desk. It’s large, one of those L shaped desks, one section apparently meant for paperwork or maybe his school computer, and the other decked out with a pretty beefy computer, and two screens to match. I wonder what he plays on it, I know some games from my limited YouTube experience, but I’ve rarely played anything but phone games. One family I stayed with had a decent computer, and when I got my computer time I’d mess about on a few free games, but nothing more.

“Do you play a lot?” I decide to just ask.

“Not recently, but yes” I idly spin in his chair, a very comfy chair.

“What games?” I realize I’m getting motion-sick and stop.

“It varies. Ever heard of Welcome to the game?” I hum my yes. I used to love watching people play them, the jump scares man. “Played through all of his games, play a lot of other things too though”

“I always wanted to try Welcome to the game… Play any game, honestly” Azriel looks back at me from where he’s stood by his bed, filling his duffle bag with all his things.

“Could let you try it sometime, maybe next weekend if you have time” I consider it.

“As long as I get my chores sorted first” Azriel smiles and nods, reaching up for the two sabers on the wall.

“I could come and help you out”

“I don’t want you feeling like a maid” He breathes a laugh.

“I don’t, I find cleaning therapeutic too” He puts the sabers in this long bag for transport then flings his duffle bag over his shoulder. “We could play some switch games too at some point, I have a lot of games” I smile.

“I don’t want you feeling like I’m using you either” He smiles softly as he makes his way towards me, and I rise to meet him, knowing we’re ready to get going.

“I know you’re not. You wouldn’t have asked, so I offered...” He takes my hand in his free one, his thumb running along my palm. “And I’d love to beat you at Mario Cart over and over” He says with a gentle smirk.

“Do I even _want_ to play with you?” He laughs and tugs me towards him lightly, and I willingly comply with the silent request, my cheeks blossoming red as I rest my hand on his shoulder.

“Probably not, Cass and Rhys stopped trying years ago,” He smiles, and I smile. “But I’d love to watch you play welcome to the game, I’m curious how you’d do under that kind of stress, and all that puzzling” I slowly lean in closer, those eyes so mesmerizing, his voice so alluring.

“Where would you sit? You only have one chair” Azriel smirks faintly.

“Maybe I’d keep you in my lap…” I blush brighter, but can’t deny that a part of me likes the sound of that.

I want to be close to him, and even if I might never be able to do _that_ , I can be close to him, something after last night I actually find myself wanting more often than not. I killed a demon last night, weakened it enough to overpower it, at least. Even if truly beating them will take time, I am glad that I can be this close to him without too much trouble.

“Maybe you will…” I say softly, lifting my head invitingly, and he takes the bait immediately.

His kiss is as gentle and soft as the night before, but there’s a different sort of certainty to it now, a deeper sense to it too. I savor every moment of it. He rests his head against mine as he pulls back, taking in a couple deep heaps of air, while I’m just left panting softly.

“So… Saber duel” He says breathily.

“Right” I step back, picking up my bag from the floor and fastening it over my shoulder, then pick up my helmet “I’m ready”

“Then let’s head down, I think Ramona wanted a word” I nod, and the two of us head downstairs to find his mother.

She’s in the living-room, working on what seems to be embroidery on a table cloth. She notices as we step inside though, and sets aside her work, standing to meet us.

“I was going to ask how last night was, Rhys and Cassian haven’t deigned to leave their rooms yet, so I haven’t had a chance to ask” She smiles at us both, such a warm and motherly smile.

“Last night was fun, I won Monopoly” Ramona smiles a little wider.

“As usual then” She looks between us two for a moment. “You both don’t seem terribly hungover” I smile, and so does Azzy.

“We didn’t have much, the others though… Cauldron…”

“It was nice though” Azriel seems surprised to hear me talking, but Ramona only looks happy.

“I’m glad you’re talking, Estelle, my bonus son has been a good influence” Azriel faces his bonus mom with a frown.

“How did you know?” Ramona shrugs.

“You barely spoke either when you first came here Azriel, I know the tells, see the signs” Ramona looks to me. “I don’t know what you’ve been through, but I’m glad to see you fighting. You’re a part of the family now, sweetie” I smile.

“Thank you” I try not to sound choked up, but Azriel, such a good reader of character—of mine specifically—notices and decides it’s time we get moving.

“We’re headed for the gym, can’t be slacking like the rest of them” Ramona laughs.

“Well, good luck then, don’t work yourselves too hard”

“Bye Ramona” I say with a wave, following Azriel to the door.

“Bye Estelle, don’t let Azriel bully you” I smile and sneak out the door, closing it behind me and following Azriel down to his bike.

Õ

The gym’s fairly empty, but I don’t chance it and change in the bathroom as usual, meeting up with Azriel in the hall after, letting him lead me to a large room separate from the main gym adorned with a sign that reads “ private training room”, something I should figure Azriel would bring me to, considering we’ll be playing with light-sabers.

We step inside and sort out the things, Azriel handing me the red saber while he gets the blue one.

“I’ll explain the basics, then we’ll go through the choreography and see what happens” I give him a thumbs up and ignite my saber.

“Bring it” Azriel grins and lights his.

“Let’s”

Õ

“The light always wins” Azriel says as I once again mess up, and by this point, I’m tired and ready to sit back for a minute, or head home all together, realizing I have laundry to get done before tomorrow.

“Good for you… Azzy, can we be done for today?” Azriel smiles and lowers his saber, turning it off, which I mirror.

“Of course” So we head to the changing rooms.

I’m soon back home, having given Azriel the brightest thanks and dearest goodbye, until next time, and as I reach my apartment, I begin with the chores.

I have such a blast. I shouldn’t complain, it only takes a couple hours before I’ve cleaned everything, including myself and ready to head to bed. Except that I still have to apply the cream to my burns before I let myself sleep.

It’s no better now than it was last week, I still feel as disgusted by myself as I did then, but I power through and head to bed, alarm set and ready, then I drift away into uneasy slumber.

Õ

To work while everyone else I know are free turns out to really be annoying, because I watch Mor’s Instagram and just see a bunch of road-trips with Rhys, Cass, Feyre and Azriel, ones I cannot attend, then shopping trips with Feyre, nights out with everyone that I had to decline because I’m too tired after eight hours of work, and because I’m so tired I have no energy to do anything when I get home.

We’ve arranged Saturday to Sunday—days I managed to still get off despite last Friday—to be the gaming weekend. I’ve seen him now and then at work, just dropping in to have my lunch break with me and make sure I’m alright, nothing different from the usual, and rather nice. But I miss the alone-time, miss being able to just sit back and talk about whatever without others around, because both of us are pretty uncomfortable talking about most things from our personal life around strangers.

It’s why I value our morning coffee so much, I think, because we get a solid half an hour of just random chatting or pleasant silence.

It’s also why I look forward to this weekend, because apparently Rhys won’t be around, off somewhere with Feyre, and Cass will probably be at Nesta’s—if Azriel’s right—which means we won’t have them trying to pry and teasing. It is that fact that motivates me to push through every long hour of work, the fact that I’ll get a couple more moment’s with Azriel to myself

When Saturday comes around, I pack my bag with essentials, which begrudgingly involves my burn salve, never making that mistake again. I also bring me some snacks of my own, having found a love for sour-cream chips. Good expensive shit. I can afford some now and again.

My phone buzzes, and I know that means Azriel’s here to pick me up. I send him a thumbs up in answer and get out of this apartment complex, careful to lock behind me, no way of knowing who comes around these parts.

Just because I have Azriel as a safety-net doesn’t mean I get reckless. It’s light out right now though, so I have little to worry about as I step out into the warm spring air, immediately spying Azriel at his usual spot.

“Ready for some gaming?” He asks past his helmet, and I smile, stuffing my head in mine as well.

“As ready as I’ll get” I say, calmly setting myself down behind him.

“Good”  And then we’re off.

As Azriel said, Rhys and Cass are out, evident by the lack of a truck and car in the garage as Azriel parks his bike in there. Razie however proves to be present as we step trough the door, her unfamiliar and young voice calling from the living room.

“Is that you Az!” Azriel answers as he puts his helmet on the shelf, grabbing mine to do the same cause I’m too short to reach.

“Yeah!” He calls loud enough for her to hear, but not too loud to b reak our ears.

“ Mom and dad left to some friends, said there’s lunch and stuff to reheat in the fridge!” She calls as I hang up my jacket and get my shoes off.

“Alright, thanks” Azriel says, hanging up his own jacket and making for the stairs, which I silently follow along with.

“Is there someone with you?” Azriel stops and looks to the living-room.

“Yeah, you’ve heard about Estelle” Silence,  one that drags on a while.

“Right, hello, have fun you both, I guess” She doesn’t sound too happy, and I wonder why that’d be, but I don’t linger on the subject, following Azriel up the stairs and to his neat and tidy room.

“Get comfy, I’ll get some stuff from downstairs” He says calmly, and I proceed to do just that, setting down my bag by the foot of his bed, bringing out my bag of chips and sitting down in his office chair.

He takes a while, maybe having a chat with Razie, so I bust open the bag and starts snacking. What can I say, I’m kind of addicted.

As Azriel enters the room again, arms full of snacks and drinks—none alcoholic I note—his eyes land on me, stuffing my face with a handful of chips, and his confused yet amused smile is priceless.

“ Where  di d you find that?” I smile, face full of chips still. I recall my manners and make sure to clear my mouth before speaking.

“ My bag” He goes and sets all his stuff down on the clear part of the desk.

“I assume that means you like them” He says as he sorts out the things, two glasses with him.

“ They’re lovely” I say, managing to bring myself to set the bag aside ion the desk. “Now, shall we begin?”

“ Well, scoot so I can boot it all up” I get up and leave the chair for him, drawing myself a glass of Pepsi today, which apparently Azriel favored this day.

I actually find it better, less bubbly somehow.

“Like this too” I say, just to be open about my growing tastes in the more fine things in life.

“Noted” He says, looking over his shoulder as I drink the Pepsi, then proceeds to type in his very long password.

I lean against the backrest of his chair while he sorts through his things, a hand of mine gently combing through his hair. I notice twitch popping up, notice he has an account, which isn’t strange. But then I notice the “Last streamed” Icon by his name, reading just a couple days ago, and I frown.

“You stream?” I don’t know if it’s intentional, but he closes the Twitch tab and another of the pop ups, which looks like habit, but is a little  suspicious.

“I… Yeah, sometimes” He sounds embarrassed…

“What do you do?”

“Dominate in gaming, people like to watch me utterly slay” I move my hands to his shoulders, giving them a gentle massage.

“Where’s this confidence on regular days?” He looks up at me with a grin.

“Locked behind my mask and muffled by my demons” I smile softly and reach a hand up to cup his cheek, leaning down to plant a kiss to his temple.

“Glad to know your daily mask is at least cracked around me” I murmur against his brow.

“I try, Angel… I only stream because it’s something that lets me… I don’t know, do what I like but also be what I want? Be entertaining, you know. I don’t really have that role in the Circle” I give him another kiss and straighten.

“I think you’re the funniest of them all when you let your humor show” He spins in his chair, forcing me back a step as he faces me.

“ Well, I’m inclined to agree, your humor mirrors my own, and it’s refreshing” I smile, smile even wider as he stretches his arms out in invitation. “Common” I roll my eyes and sit myself down in his lap, his arms wrapping snugly around my waist. The n he spins us back to the screens, his right arm letting go and clicking me to welcome to the game 2, which I have to agree is much more fun and intricate than the first, so I don’t complain.

“I’ve barely touched a computer in my life, so this will be fun” Azriel laughs from his place at the crook of my neck, too damn tall for his own good. My feet can’t even touch the floor right now.

“Should stream it to farm views” Azriel jokes, and I turn my head to glare at him, but he just reaches up and pecks my lips, successfully turning my face red.

“Just teach me the basics” I say, looking back at the keys and screens and all the things.

And then a long description of key bindings and shortcuts ensues, and I soak the information right up.

“Think you’re ready for this?” I shake my head.

“I need the headset, where is it, I swear I saw one before” Azriel takes a scan of his setup, then finds the headset stuck behind his computer, having fallen there at some point, and after some fiddling, I manage to get it out for him, and I settle it on my head.

“Not quite right, Angel” He says, lifting and flipping the thing around, and I sigh.

“How am _I_ to know?” 

“Which is why I told you, now go on, click new game” My hand is a little shaky as I move the mouse to the thing, partly out of fear, partly out of excitement.

“You stay fucking quiet, alright?” I say, looking back at him, giving him a serious glare, which he just smiles at,  o f course.

I read through all the things, explore the building and make myself accustomed to everything, then begin. Paranoia quickly sets in as I brows the web, searching for those keys, making sure to move my wifi around to keep myself from being swatted, and hacking some locked ones for more options.

A sound makes me jump, right in my left ear, and Azriel decides it’s time to say his first words since I began.

“What is it?” I just barely hear it past these sound canceling headphones.

“I heard something” I whisper back as I get up from my chair in game. And who stands in the window? The damn Noir, and who yelps in surprise and fear? Me. Azriel laughs and pulls me in closer, while I manage to compose myself and turn my back to the piece of shit.

“ Mother fucker” I hiss, taking a few deep breaths. “Should have expected that” Azriel nuzzles into the nape of my neck, pecking it softly.

“You’re doing great El” He murmurs against it, and I take a deep breath to combat the pleasant shiver running through my body.

“Haven’t found a code, or the other wiki pages” I mutter, looking back at the window, the Noir gone. I take the opportunity to switch up my wifi while I’m at it.

“You’ll get it” I sigh and return to the browsing. I reach a page full of text, and I figure some code or site address might be embedded in it, so I lean closer to the screen and start looking, keeping my ears pealed for whatever sounds there are around me.

“ Aha! A code!” I say, straightening in my seat, which I realize almost knocks Azriel’s head off, but he dodges like a champ.

“Good job Angel” I do a little victory dance as I copy and paste the thing into my notepad and get out of my seat to change the wifi.

“I’mma beat this game” I say to myself as I return to my computer and handle a hack coming through.

I readjust my seating a little and notice something, something that makes me freeze in place, while my face burns beet red. Azriel too has gone still, which is evidence enough for me that he too has noticed what I’ve noticed. Not sure how else to deal with it, I scoot forward a little and keep playing the game. Azriel nuzzles into my neck, and I feel him breathe a long sigh.

“ I’m sorry…” I hear him mumble, and I pause the game and shift to look at him, placing my hand on his cheek to make him look at me.

“I know you wouldn’t act on it… It’s fine…”  He gives me a tight hug.

“ I’d never do a thing you didn’t want” He mumbles right by the shell of my headphones.

“Should we play something else?”  he nods.

“Mario kart?” He asks, and I take off the headphones and set them down on his desk

“ Sure” He unwraps his arms from around me, and I swiftly get out of his lap, taking a trip to the snacks and stuffing my face full. 

Azriel then hooks his switch to the computer screens and gets a beanbag he can sit on, giving me the office chair. We goof around on Mario kart for a good while, until I grow hungry for food and less so for snacks. Azriel pauses the game and we head to the kitchen to heat up something to eat. I get some meat stew and potatoes, and it tastes lovely.

“ I was gonna ask you about this summer” Azriel says after a moment, and I raise an eyebrow his way. “We usually all go to Rhys’ family vacation house out on an island in the archipelago. He told me to invite you now so you could take the week off for it” I simply stare for a moment.

“A week? When?”

“We’ve decided a week after school ends, staying a week as well. You wouldn’t have to pay anything more than the food share” I consider it.

“I… It’s a lot of time… I…”  Azriel looks so hopeful, and I would love some vacation… And now would be the time to ask for the time off… “I’ll ask  my boss, send me the exact dates later” Azriel nods and we continue eating.

After sorting out the dishes, mainly by putting them in the washing machine, we head back to Azriel’s room, and it’s decided that I’ll play some more welcome to the game, Azriel picking a seat atop the beanbag this time though.

I find myself missing him though, his arms a real comfort while the scarier parts happened, but if Azriel isn’t comfortable due to the physical reactions beyond his control, then I will respect his boundaries. It didn’t make me uncomfortable, not as uncomfortable as I would expect, but I think it’s because I trust him, trust that he would never hurt me like that.

I proceed to lose over and over to both Lucas and the breather, but worst of all, the deeper I get into the game, the worse sites I find, some sites a little too real for me to process. Soon enough, I have no drive to play anymore, tired and mentally exhausted, so I save end exit the game with a sigh, leaning my head back against his headrest, much too high up for me though.

“ Tired?” I nod, tilting my head to look at him, just in time to see him rise. 

He reaches out a hand to me and I gladly take it, let him wrap me into his arms for a moment before pulling back to sort ourselves out for the night. When we’re both dressed and ready for bed, Azriel settles in bed before me, and my cheeks burn at the thought of sharing an actual bed, even though we’ve technically already slept together before, twice. There just wasn’t a bed in the mix before.

Silently, he lifts his arm up invitingly where he lays on his side, and I must say it looks comfy. He’s still wearing his gloves, but I’m wearing my night-blouse too, so I should expect as much. Slowly, I settle down before him, let his arms wrap around me and settle me before him, my head resting against his chest, his bicep my pillow, and his warmth almost rendering a blanket useless.

Laying there in comfortable silence, I can’t help but let my mind wander, to the vacation on that island, a few issues popping into my head, ones I figure I should discuss with Azriel.

“Azzy…” I mumble against his chest, and it rumbles as he hums his answer. “I… I don’t have swimwear I’d be comfortable wearing to that vacation…” He’s silent for a moment.

“You’d want something long sleeved” I nod.

“Something to cover my left shoulder, at least” He hums in contemplation.

“Ramona is a seamstress, she might be able to sow something together for you, if you give her designs” My eyes widen, and I lean back a little out of his grip.

“She is?” He nods.

“An amazing one too, she made my gloves” I smile. “You’re a great artist, if you sketch ideas I’m sure she could help throw something together for you, don’t worry” I look to the side.

“But… Could I really ask that of her?” 

“Of course you can, she’d be happy to help… Just get an idea of what you’d want then we’ll ask her about it” I look back at him, back into his lovely hazel eyes, and I smile.

“Alright…” But it fades as I’m reminded of the other issue. Azriel looks puzzled by this sudden change. “I… I can’t swim” His eyebrows raise in realization, then something soft and understanding fills his eyes. “I was never taught how…”

“You don’t have to swim unless you want to,  just because it’s an island vacation doesn’t mean swimming is a must” He leans down and kisses my brow. “I’d be content with just relaxing on the beach with you, or playing board-games while the others mess about in the sea” My smile returns, and I trail my hand up to his cheeks, angling his face to mine.

“You’re amazing” He smiles faintly, his cheeks darkening.

“I’d call you the amazing one” His hand at my waist slowly trails up and down, and I can’t help but look down at his lips as he speaks, so soft and inviting before me. When I look back into his eyes, I know he’s noticed my gaze, and my cheeks flush darker.

But then he leans down, and I lean up to meet him, his hand combing into my hair as our lips collide in this soft and gentle dance that makes my heart flutter in a way I’ll never tire of.  A simple tug, and I’m splayed atop him, chest against chest, lips against lips, and completely lost in his taste, in his touch.

I’m utterly breathless as we part, and a wide smile spreads across my lips as I rest my head against his, my eyes parting slightly only to find a wide goofy grin on his. With my hand still at his cheek, I give it a soft caress with my thumb, coaxing his eyes to part ever so slightly, and what I find within them is nothing I’ve ever seen in another before, never witnessed in the eyes of someone I know.

Love.

The sight of it both breaks and mends my heart.

Before I know it, my eyes are leaking, yet my smile remains on my lips. This seems to confuse Azriel for a moment, but I don’t give an explanation, instead snuggling my face into his chest, into is shirt, and let those silent tears fall and soak the fabric. All he does is stroke my back soothingly while I hold him close, overwhelmed by the fact that  someone in this world would bother to love me, that someone  would care for me as he does.

Eventually, I fall asleep comfortably in his arms, the beat of his heart my soothing lullaby.


	9. Secrets

Mondays have never been as pleasant, coffee with Azriel spent more so in his lap than at my own desk, my eyes observing the essay he’s working on while I drink my share and hand-feed him his. It’s an English essay about the evolution of the language, and Azriel seems to simply _adore_ the subject.

He’s trucking along though, wholly focused despite having me sat in his lap, and he seems to be doing fine. It’s not due until the end of the semester, so he has time, but its also supposed to be a very large finals essay, so he’s putting all the work he can get into it. I should be doing the same, but I spent about four hours on homework last night after returning home from Azzy’s place, so I’m set for the time being.

Setting my cup down, I reach for his and hand him a sip, one he gladly accepts.

“You don’t have to feed me” He says as I set it down again.

“If I’m going to be clingy I can at least be useful” I state, and he snorts, leaning his head against mine for a moment, planting a soft kiss to the side of my temple.

“You’re not being clingy, you’re being cute” I look to the side as I blush, a tiny pout to my lips as I spot the clock on the wall.

“I have to stop being cute soon though, the Circle’s coming in about ten” He sighs.

We’ve both agreed to keep this quiet, just for now while it’s fresh and new, and to spare us the teasing sure to follow if they do learn of this.

“Should probably get to class, honestly, I have things to discuss with my teacher regarding the story” I nudge Azriel’s right arm, and he wordlessly pulls it back from his computer and frees me, allowing me to hop down to the floor again.

“Still stuck?” He questions while I reach for my mug.

“Kinda… I know what I want to do, just not how to execute it properly” I say and make my way to my desk, chugging down the last of my  lukewarm  coffee before tugging my bag over my shoulder.

“I believe in you” Azriel says, turned to face me in his chair. I smile.

“I believe in you too, good luck handling the Circle on your own” He sighs.

“I’ll miss you…” He murmurs, and a blush quickly prickles up my cheeks.

“Just come find me if it gets unbearable, you know my schedule” He grins.

“And you know mine” I sigh and turn to leave, reluctant but knowing it has to be done.

The way to class is a little different, people look at me not only with fear, but this strange admiration. I keep my mask tugged on tight though, letting none of that affect me physically, though it does get me thinking. That trail of thought is brushed aside though as I arrive at class, writing out my issue to my teacher, who happily helps me figure out a way to get going again, and from there I get to work at my usual spot far in the back.

As class starts and people pool into the room, I note that people are looking at me again, though every time I lift my gaze, they try to discreetly look away, which they obviously fail to do.  It unnerves me, this attention, mainly because I’m not sure where it’s coming from. Has Eris told the entire school about me, or… Is it because of the concert?

Now that I think about it… No Night Court students have performed at that concert for years, something Sarah seemed pretty excited about changing once she and the others grew accustomed to me.

Trying to figure it out a little more thoroughly, I listen to the low chatter in the room, try to distinguish what they’re saying while keeping my focus on my computer.

“I honestly had no idea the Night Court could have talent in it, except maybe Feyre” I make out a particularly clear whisper. 

“What’s even her name?” Another questions.

“No fucking idea, the teacher never addresses her by it” It’s a struggle not to smile at their confusion, but I manage well enough and sneakily pull out my phone, keeping it as hidden as possible.

_It appears I’m famous._ I text Azriel, making sure my sound and vibration is off before settling it in my lap and continuing to write.

I check it again after about ten minutes.

_Oh?_ Is his answer, short and brief due to class, I figure.

_They’re all talking about the concert, bamboozled about the fact an NC student has talent._ I hit send and once again return to my work, though leave my phone before me, display up.

_Your mask might be compromised._ Soon pops up on the display, and I discreetly type my way to answer.

_I can be menacing and talented at the same time._

_Right, of course. You deserve the fame though, you were brilliant._ I can’t quite help the gentle blush prickling on my pale cheeks.

_I was decent._

_Oh stop being modest, you slayed._

_Oh stop making me blush, I’m in class._ His answer is a mischievous emoji.

Just as I turn off my display, a voice reaches me.

“Everything going as it should?” The teacher asks, leaning against the desk just to my right. My head snaps to him, and from the look on his face, I’ve been busted texting in class, something I’ve never done before in my entire life.

Damn it Azriel, you’re a terrible influence.

I nod, scrolling up to show him the work I’ve gotten in, the solid three pages of text. He nods, which seems to relay that I’m not in immediate danger.

“Save the texting for breaks please” I nod and tuck my phone into my pocket again, which seems to both surprise and delight him. Used to rowdy NC students perhaps.

To follow my mask, I should probably not listen, but… I can listen to teachers but intimidate the students, that’s a valid option. My mask is evolving either way, so I’ll just have to roll with it.

I almost breathe a sigh as the teacher leaves, and a quick scan across the classroom reveals that everyone observed that exchange, but quickly look away once my gaze shoots their way. Taking a deep breath, I continue writing until the two hours of class are up.

After math, Mor, Elain and I head to lunch, Mor being her usual chirpy self, talking about all the fun things I missed out on during break. As if I don’t already know. She seems curious about my silence, but thankfully doesn’t question it, chatting with Elain in the lunch-line as we get our fill.

I must say, I’ve missed not having to cook  for myself, and the large portion I scoop up on my plate is one I look forward to eating. Free food is good food.  Lunch by our table is as rowdy as  ever , but Azriel and I spend it mainly by stealing glances, brushing our feet against one another beneath the table. A part of me wanted to sit beside him today, but we agreed to be discreet so I stick by it.

“Az, did you ask Estelle about the resort?” Rhys an d’s question snatches his attention away from me, and he nods quickly, composing himself.

“She’s asking for that week off today” He looks back at me, and I nod in confirmation.

“Awesome! We’re going to have so much fun out there this year!” Mor Exclaims, doing a little dance.

“ Hopefully the weather’s nice this year, I wanna work on my tan” Cassian says, and Nesta snorts.

Cassian is already four times as tanned as me, so I don’t see why he’d need to tan, honestly.

“I think you could use some sun as well, Estelle, no offense” Mor says, and I look down at my hands, pale and milky.

I used to have rich skin, at least before I moved out to live by myself, after that I didn’t have time to bask in the sun hours on end. This year will be different though, I’ll get back my golden complexion. As long as I can get my hands on swimwear that don’t flash my disgusting burns.

Õ

Asking my boss for that week off works surprisingly well, mainly because I assure him it’ll be my only week of vacation this year, so he doesn’t fuzz. I text Azriel the news the moment I step into the café again, cleaning the tables idly while I look for his response.

_Awesome, have you thought of designs for Ramona yet?_ I sigh and go to the next table

_Yes, but I have nothing on paper yet._

_It’s a start._

_Yeah, I gotta work now though, talk to you later._ And with that, I lock my phone and stuff it in my pocket, continuing on with my four hours of work.

Õ

The next morning turns out to be the time I spend sketching out the ideas, sipping on my morning coffee while Azriel works before me, and I work that pencil and eraser. I figure a normal bikini for sunbathing with some kind of sheer fabric over my shoulder might be enough, like a sleeve that masks  it but is airy and comfortable, covering about half my chest and back, and my arm to about my elbow. I like the thought of it, but I would want something else to switch between, so I sketch out another.

That turns into a tighter sleeved one, and more of a one-sleeved bathing suit, but I like them both equally.

Content with my work, and about ten minutes before the Circle arrives, I stand and head to Azriel’s desk, presenting said sketches before him.

“What do you think?” I ask, a little nervous to be showing of my art like this, but determined to trust Azriel to the fullest. He takes the sketchbook form my hands and gives it a closer look.

“They’re nice” He mumbles, and I note a slight darkening to his cheeks. “They serve their purpose well” He says, looking back up at me and silently hands back the book. “Just have to ask Ramona now” I nod.

“Saturday maybe?” He smiles.

“Wanna stay over ‘til Sunday?” I blush.

“I have work Sunday” 

“I could drive you there” I take a deep breath.

“Your brothers” He looks to the side. “ I mean… If we’re gonna keep this quiet…” He nods.

“I get it” The n he looks up at me again. “I just… I wanna be around you more… I miss you” I smile, my blush deepening. I lean against his desk and reach my hand out to his gloved one.

“I miss you too… Maybe… Maybe you just drive me home on Saturday and forget to go home again” Azriel grins.

“That’d be just as suspicious” 

“You could say we watched a movie and you slept on the couch, wouldn’t be the first time” I watch him contemplate it.

“Alright, deal… But I’m not going to sleep on the couch, am I?” I shake my head.

“No…” I let my eyes scan Azriel for a moment. “I have a small bed though, just a warning” Something mischievous enters his eyes.

“Just means I’ll have to snuggle you more” My face is red at this point, and I lean down for a quick peck to his lips before retreating back to my desk. Azriel doesn’t seem pleased with my hasty retreat, but the clock is nearing its mark, and only about a minute after I’ve sat down and stuffed my sketchbook in my bag, the Circle rolls in, oblivious to anything as they engage us both in the banter.

Õ

Wednesday rolls around, passes and arrives at gymnastics.  T his week we’re dong some running, and I can’t say I’m stoked. But I run, run all the laps around the course the teacher demands and find myself drenched in sweat afterwards, and in desperate need of water.

I was stupid enough to not bring a water bottle today, forgot it at home. So, I drag myself to the secluded changing room and gorge on the tap water in the bathroom instead, until I feel about ready to throw up.

After showering, I realize that I have about fifteen minutes until work starts, my slowness today not exactly ideal, and I also realize that Azriel is somewhere waiting to drive me there.

I check my phone and find a text waiting on the home screen.

_Still alive?_ I smile faintly and work to get  dressed again.

_Barely._ I send back before hastily braiding my wet hair.

_I’m waiting at the parking lot, the usual spot._ I send a thumbs up and hurry to my locker to get the last of my things, including my helmet.

Azriel has the audacity to grin when he spots me shuffling my way to the parking-lot, and I glare my disapproval.

“Are you okay?” He tries not to sound too amused, but I hear past his attempted calm.

“I feel like ramen noodles” He snorts.

“Common, you gotta get to work” I sigh and stuff my face in the helmet, Azriel doing the same. I wish I could just go home and cuddle up into a ball at home, preferably with Azriel there to hold me. Mother, the weekend couldn’t come sooner.

Õ

Saturday finally comes around, and Azriel picks me up around ten to ask Ramona for help. Steeping into his house feels strange, especially as Ramona greets us in the hallway, bright as always. I’ve never asked for help like this, ever. Never had the option to.

“ Azriel’s informed me you require my assistance. What can I help you with dear?” She asks, and I fumble to get to the right page while I gather my words.

“I… I need…” My throat closes, and I take a moment to clear my throat. “I would greatly appreciate if you could help me tailor clothes for the summer…” Ramona’s eyebrows raise, and a bright smile spreads across her lips.

“Do you have designs to show me, dear?” I nod and wordlessly hand her my sketchbook. Her face shifts into professional contemplation as she studies the pieces, and I watch her eyes flick between me and it for a moment. “Swimwear” She states more than asks, but I nod none the less. “I could get this done… I would need to take your measurements though” I gulp, look to Azriel, unsure if this entails having to undress in any way.

My worry must have been painted across my face, because Azriel looks to his bonus mom and speaks.

“She won’t have to strip down, will she?” Ramona shakes her head and focuses her eyes on me.

“ Not if that makes you uncomfortable dear, but come along, I’ll take you to my studio so we can discuss this a little more thoroughly.

She motions for me to follow as she turns, but I hesitate a moment, glancing up at Azriel, but all I find is silent encouragement in his eyes, so I swallow my uncertainty and follow after her. Her studio is large, but cramped with mannequins and projects, tightening the space up quite a bit. She motions for me to step up on a podium before a mirror, and soon I find a measuring tape around my waist.

“I assume there’s a reason you need a sleeve over your left shoulder” She says softly, avoiding to touch said shoulder as she measures me, taking notes of her findings.

“Yes…” I answer, my voice weak and pathetic. I curse myself for it. 

“In the first design you want the sleeve to be sheer and lose, is that right?” I nod.

“Like a… Cardigan… Half a cardigan” She nods slowly, her mind most likely figuring out how to best make my request come to life.

“The other one then, should the sleeve be tight?” I think about it.

“As long as the fabric is flexible” I mumble, and she notes something down in her notebook

“ You’re coming along to the island then, or is this just generally for the summer?” I look her way.

“I… Am coming along, yes” She smiles.

“I’m glad, it’s a great group of friends you’ve found yourself, Estelle, I assure you, you’ll have a blast there” I smile.

“Yeah… I have, haven’t I” I look down at the floor, smiling softly still. Ramona is silent for a moment, writing down some things again, but I seem done with measuring. “Razie tells me you spent the night here last weekend” My cheeks immediately flush red.

“I- I did” I manage to admit, not one to lie to this sweet and kind woman. 

“I hope he treats you well” I bring myself to look her way, but I can’t quite bring myself to answer. “Who am I kidding, it’s Azriel, he wouldn’t hurt a hair on your head” I smile, looking back down at the floor. “As I’ve said, you’re a part of the family now, and you’re welcomed with open arms” My eyes water, but I don’t let any tears fall, smiling through it, even if it quivers.

Õ

I find Azriel in the living room once Ramona is done gathering what she needs to do her thing, tapping away at his phone while idly watching tv.

I must have made a sound, because he looks back at me, stood in the door frame, and he stands to approach me.

“How’d it go?” He asks, and I smile.

“Good, I’ll have to come back for fittings now and again” He smiles too.

“Should I drive you home already?” I glance at the clock, only about twelve.

“Yeah, I have chores to get sorted still” He nods, and together we walk to the foyer to get dressed.

“Already leaving? I thought I’d hold you both for lunch” Ramona says, stepping out from the kitchen.

“ She has places to be, and so do I” My place, that is. Ramona’s smile seems to suggest she figures as much herself.  She reaches into her pocket and pulls out  two  one- hundred -note s , handing  them to Azriel.

“Buy yourselves something to eat” Azriel gives his half-mom a look.

“I can’t take that” He protests, but she isn’t having any of that.

“Just take it Azriel, treat your lady to dinner tonight” Azriel’s cheeks flush, as do mine, and he casts me a shy glance. Then his eyebrow raises in silent question, and I give him a look that should convey  _why not_ , even if the thought of accepting that money feels repelling, but I know Ramona isn’t going to take no for an answer _._

Reluctantly, he takes the note, stuffs it in his wallet, then seems to realize he’s missing something, and signs  _Give me a minute._ And heads off to the stairs, taking two at a time, leaving me leaned against the door, helmet beneath my arm, and an amused smile on my lips.

_Hurry you dork._ I sign after him, even though he can’t see, and Ramona gives  the gesture an amused look.

“I’ve heard of your little silent chats, it’s adorable” I blush deeper and look to the short woman in the kitchen doorway.

“An efficient way to keep the others from snooping” I mumble, and Ramona laughs.

“Of course, very true” Azriel’s steps boom as he hurries down the steps, though somehow maintaining a look of calm about himself, and soon he’s stood beside me, dressed and ready, bag over his shoulder and a helmet under his arm.

“I’ll be home later” He says, motioning for me to open the door, which I do and give Ramona a small wave as I step out. She answers with one of her own.

“Have fun, dearies of mine” She calls before Azriel closes the door behind us.

“ What chores do you need done?” He asks as we approach the bike parked and waiting.

“Laundry, then I should be fine” I say, stuffing my face in the helmet as Azriel does the same, making to seat himself atop the bike.

“So lunch at yours and dinner later?” He questions as I seat myself behind him, snaking my arms around his torso.

“Sure, what place are you thinking?” I ask, the thought of going out bringing a slight blush to my cheeks.

“Someplace new, I’ll look into it” I smile, and Azriel fires up his bike and gets rolling.

“Sounds good”


	10. The cover of night

We arrive at my apartment soon enough, and I instruct Azriel to get some lasagna from the freezer and heat it while I get the first round of laundry sorted. He happily obliges.  And while he sets the table and all that, I go and get my drying rack and fumble to set it up in the living-room.  With that done, and two plates of steaming homemade lasagna waiting on the dinner-table, I sit down with Azriel with the intent to have a pleasant meal.

“I was thinking we could watch some clone wars before we head out” Azriel says while I chew down a mouth-full of lasagna.

“Clone wars?” I question, just about done with my bite.

“It’s an animated series between episode two and three” That perks my interest.

“Sure, we can watch it between laundry hauls” He nods, seems delighted to do just that.

“ How many are there?”

“Three. One white, one black, one colored” I explain, and Azriel looks like he knows the logistics well enough.

“And you do it once a week?”

“It’s unbelievable how much laundry one person piles up in a week, it’s not just clothes though” 

“I can believe it”

For the next three hours we alternate between snuggling on the couch and watching the series while the laundry washes and hanging up the wet clothes and shoving in the new load. Azriel seems accustomed to this kind of thing, though fumbles a little with hanging up the things. He explains he used to help his mother with laundry when he was little, but they always used dryers, and his mild OCD makes it hard to efficiently hang up the clothes because he want s them organized and sorted. 

I find it cute, and assure him I had similar problems before I got used to where I want everything.

Clone Wars turns out to be quite fun to watch, Ashoka a fun character, and Anakin a lot more charismatic than he was in the movies. Obi-wan is as much of a meme and the both of us have quite the laughs, Azriel mainly because I find myself wheezing ‘til I can’t breathe, and he laughs at my expense.

When all the laundry is done and sorted, I head to take a shower while Azriel searches town for a decent restaurant for tonight. When I step out, clad in my robe, I peak out the hallway to ask if he has settled on anything.

“So? What will it be?” He shifts in his seat and looks to me, his cheeks flushing once he realizes I am wearing nothing but a robe, though most of me is hidden from him either way. I blush too as those eyes take me in.

“I found one called Meridian with good revives, no chance the circle’s gonna find us there” I smile.

“Does it need reservations?” He nods.

“If I call now I should be able to get a table” 

“Well, if you give them a call I’ll figure out what options I have to wear, how fancy is it?” He looks down at his phone, presumably at pictures of it.

“Decently, but you’d look good in anything” I blush deeper, catch his shy smirk as he looks back at me, and I shake my head and go to my room to do a search through my wardrobe.

“ The shower’s yours if you feel you need one!” I call before closing the door behind me.

I have one clear option: The black dress from the concert. It might actually be my only option, so I tug it out out and lay it out on my bed, trying to figure out what else to wear with it. I deeply regret being unable to go on the shopping sprees with Mor and Feyre now.

I dig out some of my  darker undergarments, then shrug off my robe to tug it all on, taking a look in the mirror to see if it’ll do. Deciding I lack some jewelry and look though my sad excuse for a jewelry box, digging out a silver cuff bracelet which is actually not silver, then a simple silver chain around my neck, along with a pair of plain silver rings in my ears. I hardly own makeup, and my skin looks fine enough as it is, but I do decide to use the lip balm I own with just the faintest hint of pink to it, then try to figure out what to do with my hair.

A braid would be my usual routine, and I don’t own a hair tong to do anything fancy either way, so I decide to just comb through it all and braid it, and while I work, a knock sounds at my door.

“I got a table” I smile.

“What time?” 

“Six” I look to the clock on my wall and find that we have about an hour left to get ready. Enough, depending on how we aim to get there.

“You know, I don’t think dresses work well on motorcycles”

“I was thinking the same” He sounds thoughtful. “ I think I’ll head home and ask to borrow  Rowan ’s car, I’ll be back in a bit” I hear him head for the hallway.

“I’ll see you soon. Be safe” I call after him, still sorting out the braid.

“I will” And soon I hear the door open and close, his steps descending the stairs.

My phone buzzes once I finish my braid, content with the result, and I look to it, expecting it to be Azriel, but no, it’s a text from an unknown number. I pick up my phone and click my way to the messages, the pop up disappearing too fast for me to read what it said, and once I see the words there, I freeze.

Y _ou can’t run._ It sends chills into my bones, and I quickly block them—whoever they are—and set my phone aside, forcing myself to breathe, in and out, in even, controlled rhythm, until a knock sounds at my door and I snap out of it, grab my phone and head out to greet whoever is there, assuming it’s Azriel, but taking a look through the peep hole first to be sure before opening the door for him.

Azriel’s eyes widen slightly as he takes me in, and I take him in too for a moment. He's dressed in black fitted jeans and a silky cobalt button-up shirt, a thin black jacket over it. Fancy but discreet. His hair has gotten waxed in place just a little to stay out of his eyes, the pair of amber eyes that are accentuated by his blue shirt.

“You’re beautiful” He breathes, causing an instant blush to flush my cheeks, and I smile shyly.

“You look handsome” I step inside,  tug on my nicer black flats a n d reach for my lighter jacket as well, figuring I need somewhere to keep my phone and keys. Azriel lingers in the door, just taking me in. “I hope it’s not  _too_ fancy” I say as I tug it on and stuff my phone in the pocket and grab my keys from the hook on the wall.

“You’re perfect” My blush only deepens, as does Azriel’s as I face him.

“Do you… Have everything?” He does a quick check in all his pockets, noting all the things he has and what he might be missing. 

“I do” I take a step towards him, and he seems stuck in my door-frame, eyes stuck on me.

“ Should we get going?” I ask, and he seems to regain cognitive function.

“Yeah, right, we should” He steps back, allowing me to step out too and lock the door behind us, stuffing the keys in my pocket before stepping up beside him.

He smiles softly as he extends his arm for me to hold on to, and I laugh softly before taking it, and Azriel grins as he leads me down the stairs.

Rowan’s car turns out to be a rather fancy, all black, old mustang, and Azriel—the gentleman that he is—opens the door for me with a soft milady before stepping over to the drivers side, an act that only makes my smile wider.

The car is just as fancy on the inside,  the majority of it all black as well, and very,  _very,_ clean.

“I wouldn’t let anyone borrow a car like this if I owned one” I admit when Azriel settles by the wheel, I clasping on the seat belt.

“ Rowan only ever lets me borrow it” He admits as he outs the key in the ignition.

“Not even Rhys?” He shakes his head. “Like, I get why Cassian is a no, but Rhys?” 

“He let him once when he was taking out a girl he was dating at the time, and…  Rowan  was not a fan of the smell of sex on his leather seats” I cringe and snort at the same time.

“Do I even want to be in here anymore?” Azriel laughs.

“It was years ago, Rhys was forced to clean the car,  inside and outside , every weekend for the next year after that, so it’s clean”  I laugh right with him.

“Alright, fair enough” I look at the time, finding about half an hour to go before we need to be at the restaurant. “What did you tell him to let you borrow it?”

“That I was going on a date” I blush. “He said no at first, but Ramona persuaded him, and only after  I  agree d to serve the same punishment as Rhys did he agree” I blush deeper and shift in my seat a little. “I’m well aware we’re not doing that any time soon” He says, his hand reaching out and resting atop my own. “Or never, both scenarios are fine” I cast a shy, apologetic smile his way, but he just reaches up his free hand to my cheek and runs his thumb along my cheekbone. “I’m just happy to have you” I smile a little brighter, and after a rather pointed look at my lips, he leans over and captures them with his, and my body simply craves to melt against him.

But his stay is short, and when he settles himself straight with a gentle cough to clear his throat, he starts the car and lets go of my hand to handle the gears, but once we reach the road, I let my own rest atop his while I watch the darkening world outside the window zoom by,  curious and excited about wherever he is taking me. Meridian, not a restaurant I have ever heard of, but there is little I have heard of in this city yet, Prythian vast and abundant with all kinds of amazing things I have never had the pleasure of experiencing.

Now I might have a shot at doing so with Azriel.

I look forward to every moment we get to share.

Around ten to six, Azriel pulls up on a parking lot, settles for a spot in the chaos of cars on this Saturday evening, and soon we both step out into the dim evening, Azriel quickly at my side to guide me wherever we are headed.

As I hold on to his arm, I am almost worried someone from school will see us, but in the cover of approaching night, and the vacancy of the hour—most already settled in their bars and clubs—I settle down and feel mostly at ease on our short walk to the restaurant.

As we step inside the rather fancy restaurant, with a very clean and clear-cut look to it, but rather dimly lit with candles set on every occupied table, a waitress greets us with a wide, pleasant smile. Azriel states his name, Azriel Noctis, and she brings us to a secluded corner of the restaurant, a two person table with a view of the outside, out towards a patio for guests during the day, currently vacant, leaving a perfect view of the park beyond it.

We sit down, are given the menus,  then the waitress lights the candles and leaves to let us decide on something , and we silently flip through it as we study our options. The prizes are terrifying, some of the dishes more expensive then my monthly cut of savings from my pay, and my terror must have been evident on my face, as Azriel speaks up.

“Pick whatever you like, Ramona’s paying… But it’s basically my monthly cut I get from Rowan for the work I do part time, just early” He over-explains, as if the thought of his bonus-mother paying for our dinner feels wrong to him, and I get why it woul d .

“It’s so expensive” I breathe, looking at an ox filet dish worth sixty Sovereigns alone.

“It doesn’t matter, tonight’s for treating yourself” I gulp and look up at him past the menu. “Pick something you’ve never had before, or something you know you like, pretend the prize doesn’t exist” 

“I _always_ look at prize-tags first, Azzy” I breathe. “If I like a shirt, and the cost is too much, the fact I like it becomes irrelevant to me” He smiles a soft, understanding smile. “ And  honestly , I have no clue what I’d like here” Azriel looks down at his own menu.

“ Steam-cooked salmon?” He questions, pointing at a dish, one still much out of my comfort zone prize wise. “Maybe lamb-chops. Glazed chicken breasts. A pasta” I just start laughing, resting my head against my palm as I  wheeze a  laugh at the absurdity of all these options, a part of me ready to cry because they are options at all. “Maybe even this fancy soup”

“Stop” I  wheeze . “I’ll take those lamb-chops” I state with a sigh, straightening in my seat with a wide smile on my face as I look to the amazing man seated in front of me.

I know that little ramble was meant to cheer me up, and it was positively successful.

“Drink?”

“Water” He nods, then folds his menu, and I do the same. “What will you get?” He only smirks softly.

“You’ll see” I roll my eyes and look out the window, look out at the darkening sky, a shade of dark gold to the west, while a deep blue to the east, bound to harbor stars soon enough, if the light of the city does not overpower them.

I notice Azriel watching me in the corner of my eye, and I cast him a look, only for his cheeks to flush and a shy smile to spread across his lips, and I return one, looking right back at him, a brow raised in question.

“Did I say you were beautiful?” He asks softly, and my heart flutters as I smile a little brighter.

“ You did…” I bite my lip. “But don’t let that scare you from speaking your mind” He smiles a little wider.

“When I saw you step up on that stage with that dress I… My heart stopped beating, I… I had Mor right beside me, squealing with excitement and tugging at my arm for attention, but I still could only look a you” I blush. That was before any of this, before… Before we took this step.

“Back then… Did you… Were you leaning towards this?” I ask softly, and I see Azriel fiddle with his sleeves a little.

“I was… In denial, but… When you came out to meet me backstage I couldn’t deny that I wanted to hold you like that ‘til the end of time” I am literary a tomato, but he is too, so it’s alright.

“ I wanted you to hold me just as much…” I mumble, and those cheeks of his darken further, somehow. Then his eyes shift to something, and he seems to school his features into calm politeness, and I do the same once I realize the waitress is returning.

“Are you both ready to order?” She chirps, and Azriel seamlessly decides to take the reins of the conversation.

“She’ll have the lamb-chops” He opens his menu and points to said lamb-chops. And I’ll have the ox on a plank” he waitress nods and pens down our order. 

“Drinks?”

“A jug of water to pour from would be nice” She nods. “And a bottle of champagne, th at one” I cast Azriel a look, but he just smiles softly my way.

“Is that all?” Azriel nods.

“We will wave you over should we want desert” She nods, then reaches for our menus, and I hand her mine without hesitance.

“I will be back with your drinks shortly, I hope you two have a spectacular evening” And with that, she leaves to bring our orders to the kitchen.

“Champagne” I state, my tone quiet, unsure who would hear me speaking here, but so far I recognize no one.

“ I figure you’ve never had any” I shake my head. “I considered wine, but that feels to fancy and old-school”

“And champagne isn’t?” He snorts, grinning brightly.

“Touche” He sighs. “If you don’t like it I’ll just bring it home to Rowan as thanks for the car” I smile.

Then the waitress returns with our drinks, setting down the large glass jug of water and ice, setting down an elegant glass each for us to drink said water, than sets down a champagne glass each before us, then the final, green glass bottle lands on the table, steaming at the top from its recent opening.

She pours both our water and champagne, then leaves us to ourselves again, and I curiously bring the slim champagne glass to my nose and take a whiff.  Sweet, not too unpleasant,  and… I don’t scent any alcoholic hints to it .

Of course not, he’s driving.

Azriel picks up his as well and reaches it out across the table, a bright smile on his lips that is just so right on his usually stoic face.

“To us” He says, and I slowly reach my glass out to his.

“To us” I mimic as our glasses clink together, and we both have a gentle sip together, both unable to stop smiling, our cheeks permanently darkened with this persistent blush.

It tastes fine, a little strange, bubbly, but fine, and I find myself pleasantly content as I set the glass down on the table again. Azriel seems to take my smile as acceptance of the surprise drink of his, and he almost looks relieved.

Our food soon arrives, and I behold my plate with clear awe in my eyes, the lamb this interesting, reddish color, yet with this brownish edge to it, and it smells absolutely wonderful, and the potatoes look perfectly cooked, the sauce a reddish brown. The small salad brings color to the piece, some green, some reddish, and all and all I feel like I am going to love this meal.

Azriel’s food is equally stunning, and smells absolutely wonderful. It is literary cooked on a plank, the dish surrounded by what looks like mildly fried mashed potato in the loveliest patterns, and the meat divides the reddish sauce from the green and red salad.

I return my focus to my own food, and carefully cut into the meat, unsure what the  _right_ way to do this is, but figuring no one cares but me. I bring the mix of sauce, meat and potato to my mouth and dig in, sighing in delight as it hits my taste buds, which Azriel finds very amusing as he digs into his own food.

“ You, and I mean this in the nicest way possible, look like a child discovering the world for the first time” I grin.

“Well, I was hardly allowed to experience the finer aspects of life before” Azriel’s smile grows pained. “I really appreciate everything you do for me, you know that, right?” That smile regains it’s brightness. And he reaches his hand out across the table.

“I do” He says as I reach out and settle mine in his. “And I intend to do a lot more for you” There is nothing but gentle promise in his eyes. The two of us simply gaze into the other’s eyes for a time, until we remember the food and get to eating again.

We discuss the finals coming up in hushed voices, discuss my story, Azriel wholly invested at this point after all the sections I have been explaining over the weeks, and we discuss this summer with the circle, land on that subject once our plates have been cleaned.

“I’d love a list of things I’ll probably need, if you have any recommendations” I state, sipping on some champagne, my second glass now, I believe.

“I’ll text you one  soon” He assures me, and I smile.

“What… What is the place like?” Azriel looks hesitant to answer that.

“I don’t want to spoil the surprise. But there’s a large house we’ll be living at just by the beach, then we have another, smaller cabin at another beach. We can go there if the Circle ever gets too much, most don’t go there because it’s quite far to walk” I smile.

“Sound nice… But I… I still can’t swim” He looks thoughtful for a moment.

“I could teach you, if you want” I blush, partly embarrassed about the fact I can’t fucking swim, and partly because he is offering such a thing.

“Maybe…” I whisper, looking out the dim restaurant, the hour well past seven now.

“Do you want desert? Or should we head home?”  I look back at him, unsure of that myself.

“I…” Azriel’s eyes shift to the far reach of the restaurant, and his features stiffen, his face growing tense. I close my mouth and glance back where he is looking, only to freeze up all the same.

Eris, with a woman practically glued to his arm, with long, perfect gold-red hair, perfect fair skin, and a purple dress hugging her perfect curves.

I could recognize her from anywhere, that trademark serpentine smirk ever plastered on her red lips, those cruel black eyes assessing the world with delighted cruelty. I quickly look back at Azriel before me, my heart racing in my chest as I question what in the world she is doing here in Prythian, with Eris for that matter. 

Last I bothered to care she was trying to woo Tamlin from Spring, maybe she’ s go tten tired of his refusal and settled on an easier prey, or… Or they… 

That text… 

“We should leave” Azriel says softly, and I couldn’t agree more, and he discreetly calls over a waitress and handles the pay, handing over the two bills and lets the waitress go and get some change and all that, Azriel’s eyes continuing to watch the pair where they sit on the other end of the restaurant, observing. When the waitress returns with the recite and change, we get our jackets on and head for the door, Azriel positioning himself to shield me from view as we make way for the door.

Well outside, Azriel guides me to that park, avoiding the window the woman and Eris settled at and guides me along the gravel path, neither of us saying a word, my grip a little tighter than usual as I hold on to his arm, my heart still panicked inside. It takes a while until I can breathe easily again, and I take in the beautiful, dark atmosphere around us, lit up by the lamp posts spewed around, and the faint stars twinkling above.

“ That was Amarantha…” Azriel whispers softly after a while, and I look up at him, his face grim as he watches the path and the world around us cautiously, vigilantly.

“I know” That grants me his attention. “We went to the same school for a while, she… She-” My voice cracks, and Azriel stops, gloved hand reaching up to wipe away the silver trickling down my cheek. “I-I know she’s bad news, and I can only imagine what she might be scheming with Eris…” Azriel uncoils his arm from mine and wraps it around my waist instead, holdi n g me close against him,  his warmth pleasant against the chill of night and the chilling worry brewing in my blood.

“I won’t let anyone hurt you again” I smile softly.

“I know…” I reach up and caress his cheek. “I… I’m just distraught because… She… She knows  _them_ ” Azriel tenses. “If she’s here… It… It could mean they’re not done yet… With me” his other hand reaches around my back and holds me close, snuggles my face against his chest while his face buries into the top of my head.

“I won’t let them near you” 

“I know, Azzy… I know…” I gently stroke his back, his muscles tense beneath my touch, his entire body tense. I decide telling him about the text is probably for the best. “I got a weird text while you were gone to get the car…” He lets me go partly, and I lean back in his grip and look up at him.

“What’d say?” I gulp.

“You can’t run” His features only seem to grow more worried by the second.

“ID?”

“Unknown” He takes a deep breath.

“You blocked them” I nod. “Good… If… If you get any more of them, tell me, the moment you get them” I nod again.

“I will, don’t worry” I shiver as a cool breeze passes through the park, and Azriel notices.

“We should get back to the car, common” He takes my hand in his and guides me along through the dim park, his posture tense, breathing calm.

“How do you know Amarantha?” That question seems to hardly help.

“The Circle and her have some history” I figure that is all he wants to share right now and let it end at that for now.

Õ

The ride home is quiet, both of us stuck in thought though neither disappointed with the evening, despite the rather unpleasant end, which honestly could have been worse had they spotted us both.  Azriel parks his dad’s car a little ways away from my apartment b l ock, a pay to park garage to keep the car safe, well aware of the rather shady area I live in, and the walk the last of the way clutching his hand is pleasant, if a little cold to my bare legs.

We get to my door soon enough though, and I let my cold hands unlock said door and grant us access to the warm inside, a warmth we quickly delve into, closing and locking the door behind us. Hanging up the keys and tugging out my phone, I shrug off my jacket and hang it up right by Azriel’s, who remains silent and thoughtful still as he looks down the hallway to my room.

“I… Need to use the restroom, I’ll be back soon” I quickly slip inside, do my deed and quickly brush my teeth, then let him have the room to do his needs as well.

I realize I need to apply the cream, dread the thought of it, and that’s what keeps me stood by my bedroom door, watching the floor blankly as I contemplate what to do.

“Estelle?” Azriel questions as he steps out, something I hardly react to.

“I… Need to…” My voice quivers, and I shakily let my gaze meet his.

I immediately see that he gets it.

“I could help you” My cheeks flush a little.

“No… Just… Make yourself comfortable” I push off the wall and step into my room, he right behind me.

“You weren’t kidding about it being small” He states as he beholds my bed.

“I hope it works…” I mumble, stepping in deeper to get my pajama s. Azriel heads to his bag to get his own sleepwear, I presume.

“We’ll make it work” he assures me, and I go to my dresser and open my jewelry box, slowly undoing my clasp bracelet and taking o f f my necklace, setting them both in there as they should, then go on to my earrings. I reach back to undo my braid, but Azriel steps up behind me and gently takes that job from me, and I let him, let him undo the braid and gently comb his fingers through the hair he slowly unbinds, the sensation sending shivers down my spine.

Once he gets it all out, I lean back against him, lean back against his solid chest, feel the beat of his heart within as he settles his hands around my waist, leaning down to plant a kiss to the side of my brow. It feels surreal, like a dream, to be held by someone like this, to be safe in another’s embrace. I never want to lose this, I never want to lose him.

“Today was nice” I whisper, intertwining my hands with his  gloved ones  where they rest atop my stomach. He hums in agreement, his chest vibrating behind me. 

“Any other adventure you’d like to embark on?” He murmurs. I smile.

“I’ve always wanted to go to a concert… Like… not a pop concert, a classical one…” I feel Azriel smile against the side of my head.

“That’s a little expensive, more so than today’s dinner, I believe… Maybe for your birthday?” I get the intent of the question.

“I already had mine this year” He freezes.

“When?”

“ Sixteenth of March” He remains silent for some time.

“You didn’t tell anyone”

“I’ve never celebrated it as far as I recall, I saw no reason to start now…” He holds me a little closer, snuggles his head against mine.

“I’ll remember it  for next year… And I’ll see what I can do about a concert” I smile.

“Don’t feel like you have to… A museum would be fun too… Or just… A road-trip like you guys went on this spring break… A trip into nature… Anything really… There’s little I’ve ever had the chance to do before… Anything outside of my routine is welcome” He gives my cheek a long, sweet kiss.

“Anything for you” He murmurs, and my heart swells in my chest, and my eyes line with tears.

“Azzy… When’s your birthday?”

“Twenty-fifth of July” I smile note that down in my mental calendar, intending to actually write it down later. “Did… Did your real parents never celebrate it either?” I shake my head.

“I remember some things from there, but not a birthday, just one held for my sister when she turned eight or nine, I don’t remember specifics.

“Have you ever… Tried to contact them again?” I shake my head.

“I want nothing to do with them” Silence. “They abandoned me, never even tried to see me again.  W hatever reason s they had for giving me up,  they do n’ t make up for the  near two decades they never tried to keep in touch” He gives my cheek another gentle kiss, kisses away the tears beginning to slither down them one by one, and that act alone makes me cry even more. “ I should… Get myself sorted…” I sigh, reaching up to wipe the last tears away as Azriel pulls back, letting me go. I cast him a soft, pained smile, then move fore the door. “ I’ll be back soon, get comfortable”

It’s terrible, to get out of this dress and into my pajamas and be forced to spread this cream across this blistering dark skin, my spirit cracking every moment I spend before this m irror with my hands touching this wretched thing.

I feel trampled once I’m done and tug on my lose sleep-shirt, shuffling my way back to my room, Azriel waiting in bed for me to arrive, having made himself comfortable. I would blush, find it strange and new and overwhelming, but all I feel is this numbing despair, and Azriel seems to pick up on it where he plays with his phone, gloves off tonight I note.

He pushes aside my blanket and spreads his arms in silent offer, and I set my alarm and put in my charger then toss my phone to the nightstand, then toss myself into those arms, lay myself down half atop him, the bed not allowing for much  of anything else, and I snuggle into his chest, sobbing softly as that despair trickles out of me.

He just runs one of his hands through my hair while the other rubs circles across my back, his steadily beating heart a soothing rhythm in my ear as I cry, my tears soaking into his black shirt. 

He holds me close all night, does nothing but sooth me, until exhaustion overtakes my body and I am whisked into the land of slumber, his heart still beating true in my head.


	11. Catching up

Monday morning, Azriel keeps me in his lap again as he works on his final essays and sips on his coffee, mainly fed to him by me while I sip on my own, my head leaned in against the crook of his neck. His own head rests gently atop my own as he types away, gloved as always, his work really coming along.

I keep a close eye on the clock, well aware that it is approaching the usual time the Circle arrives and I am torn between staying and dealing with the consequences or getting off now and staying safe. Sighing, I decide on the latter and nudge Azriel a little, and he immediately lets me go. I silently stalk my way back to my desk after a soft peck to his lips, one he tries t make last, but I don’t allow for much longer than a few seconds. Only minutes after I sit down at my desk, the Circle rolls in, loud as usual as I gather my things, preparing to head to creative writing soon enough.

Rhys and Feyre are hip to hip as always, Elain sweet and silent, Cassian bugging a clearly tired Nesta, tempting fate, and Amren looking both bored and amused at the same time as she observes, sat atop her desk to not appear quite as tiny as she is. Azriel saves his document and closes his laptop, gathering his things. Then he speaks.

“Amarantha was in town this weekend” Everything stops then, turns into complete silence, and I watch all my friends’ faces turn grim, pale, or enraged, or all at the same time. Feyre seems to hold Rhys a little closer, Rhys’ tanned face paled and grim as he looks at Azriel.

“How do you know that?” Mor is the first to push through the silence, and Azriel looks to her.

“Because I saw her with Eris this Saturday” More silence.

“You mean the Saturday you forgot to go home?” Cassian questions, Rhys—the usual leader of conversation—remaining silent. Azriel looks to his brother, and I try my best to not blush, keep my features neutral.

“We were out grabbing something to eat before watching that movie” Azriel begins, tone neutral and calm. “We both saw them on our way there, looking friendly” More silence, then Amren settles her silver gray eyes on me.

“The Little Owl saw her too” She states.

“I already know her” I state coldly, and everyone seem surprised, to hear me talking, or knowing of her, both probably. “I went to high-school and college with her in Hybern” Their faces remain grim, almost apologetic. “She’s a terrible person” Everyone seem to agree.

“What is she doing here?” Feyre asks, and Rhys seems to have settled his eyes on the floor.

“I don’t know, I looked through her socials, but she hasn’t posted anything about her trip here, nor has Eris” Azriel sounds perplexed. A part of me knows why she’s here though, figures.

“You have a past with her” I state to them all in general, they all nod, even Rhys, though he remains distant, and Feyre gently rubs his arm. “Curious coincidence…” I look down at my desk, considering my options. “She might be here for me” I decide to admit, decide to trust these people with this truth about me—this possible danger to my name—if only to ease the burden from Azriel’s shoulders a little, and I see their soft frowns. “Eris has… _Claimed_ to have contact with people from my old school, not Amarantha specifically, but if he has contact with _the twins,_ I’m not surprised he has with her too… Either way, he’s hellbent on finding a way to ruin my life here, so I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s why he’s calling in my previous torturers” Silence reigns for some time.

“She… Was she one of…” Mor trails off, and I shake my head.

“No, but she knows them, they’re close” I gather my things and rise, feel my body trembling with the dread of revealing these things to them. “I… I need to go” I mumble, tugging on my bag over my shoulder and making way for the exit.

“This could be serious, Estelle, if what you’re saying is true” Amren states, and I pause.

“It wouldn’t be anything new to me, I… I _can’t_ run from my past, I need to accept that” I make for the door again, but a chair scrapes against the floor and steps approach me in long, fast strides. I look to him, his face painted with mild worry, though I know it runs deeper within him, behind the mask.

“Let me walk you to class, in case Eris is along the way” Considering I happen to pass him now and then, I nod, casting a look to the Circle, as does he. “I’ll figure out why she was here somehow, but none of you can ask directly, it’ll compromise anything I might have planned” they all nod. “If you hear anything, we’ll discuss it together” They all seem unified on that, and with that sorted, he and I step out into the halls. “You didn’t have to tell than all that, I could tell you were uncomfortable” I sigh.

_I want to trust you all… You deserve to be trusted…_ He smiles.

_You’re so strong, you know that?_ I look to the side, blush faintly, even though my body still feels heavy, my hands trembling. _They all adore you for it, I know they do._ He signs so I can see. _I do especially_. And I blush a little deeper.

_If Amarantha is a problem to the entire Circle, I felt easing their worries a little was only fair._ I try not to acknowledge the curious glances cast our way as I sign to Azriel, walking much closer to me than he usually does when we walk through the halls, his discretion partially forgotten, and my mask, and his, a little cracked.

_No one will let her, or anyone else, lay a hand on you if we have a say in it._ I smile, faintly.

_I know._ I look to the clock we pass, find a lot of time left until class starts, about ten minutes.

_The twins._ I see him sign in the corner of my eye, and I tense a little, the carefully sign.

_Are the ones who did it all, yes._ He tenses too, grows cold with that chilling anger, and the entire hall seems to notice, try to appear small and unnoticeable as we pass them. Some look worried for me, though, their new celebrity after the concert, fearing I might have angered this silent, menacing brute they think he is, fearing he might hurt me, unaware that the anger isn’t directed at me.

_Will you ever tell me their names?_ I nod, lock eyes with Sarah in the hall, looking as fearful as everyone else we pass, and I bring myself to smile softly her way and cast her a gentle wave, which she returns cautiously, all because of the icy man to my left.

_When we’re alone sometime_. I look back at him and sign, and he seems to take a breath to calm himself down, his features returning to the calm, watchfulness and silent indifference, yet holds the slightly menacing appear. I settle into my mask as well, though find it a little hard with the heaviness in me, so I adapt it into what should look like slight irritation, which seems to deter people just as well.

_This weekend._ He starts signing, and I raise a brow his way.

A _lready making plans? It’s Monday._ He sighs.

_Ramona wants you to come over for dinner and a fitting._ I look forwards again, not letting my ‘aha’ moment show on my features. _We can do something fun during the day, if you want, unless you have chores and homework to do._ I think about it.

_I have some finals to get done too… So I think I’d rather stay home and sort it out._ He nods.

_That’s fine… I… I don’t think we can hide this from the Circle for much longer, they barely bought my lie about this weekend._ I suck on my tongue.

_I’ve never had to reveal a relationship to people, I’m not sure what to do._ He sighs.

_Have you had anyone before me?_ I shake my head.

_Not quite, there was a guy, but… He ran away the moment he got teased about it._ Again, Azriel grows a little chilled by anger at this _guy,_ and the world around us grows weary.

_I’ll never run from you._ I smile softly, as much as I dare, hopeful my cold gaze will make it appear cruel.

_I really want to hold your hand._ I admit, and casting a glance up at Azriel, I see the corner of his lips twitch.

_Later I’ll do more than hold you hand._ I quickly look forward again, take a deep breath and shove aside the blush threatening to break.

_You really aren’t making this easy._

_Neither are you._ I sigh.

We arrive at my class, already some of my classmates seated, and I cast Azriel one last look before fully stepping inside.

_I’m just a text away._ He nods. _See you around._

_See you around._ He signs back, then I head to my usual spot.

“I don’t get how she stands being around those cruel shits in NC” Someone who thinks I’m not listening whispers as I settle down.

“She fits better in the Day Court, or dawn, I think. Heck she even played in the band with those Day courters” I don’t appreciate their words, but I cannot let it show, I repeat that in my head again and again.

“Azriel and her seem to stick around each other a lot” Another says.

“He almost looks pleasant when she’s around these days” Another whispers.

“Or ready to kill someone” Someone else adds.

I tug out some paper and scribble on some clear words, then fold it into a neat paper plane, just as one of my foster siblings taught me years ago.

Then I throw it at the gossiping group of students, settling down before anyone notices I moved at all, too surprised by the plane landing on the floor before them, some hesitantly reaching for it.

They grow silent, deathly so.

_I have ears._ I wrote, and the silence that follows is rather fitting.

Some slowly look over their shoulders at me, and I shift my gaze from my computer to them, my gaze sharp and displeased, and some of them pale, grow a sickly shade of green even. They gulp, then look back at their work. And they don’t say a thing again for as long as class lasts.

My teacher should honestly thank me.

Õ

After math, Mor and Elain stay behind to get some better explanations for the new things we’ve gone through, and I decide to head to lunch, hungry for whatever concoction the school has brewed today.

People seem noticeably more comfortable with me around alone, wary, but that same wonder from after the concert smooths their wariness. I spot Filip in the hall, his golden hair and sky blue eyes, and I wave softly in greeting as his eyes land on me. He smiles too, waves, seems inclined to engage in conversation, but hesitant. I raise a brow his way and pause just before him, and the world around us seem to hold their breaths.

“Jellal’s back” He says, his nervousness clear in his voice. “But if you want, I’m sure you could still play with us now and then, if we want to do something outside Jellal’s comfort zone” I take a moment to consider.

“He knows she doesn’t talk, right?” I hear someone whisper, and Filip nervously glances in their direction, while I keep my cool, reaching into my pocket for my small notebook and pen.

“Do you play any other instruments, by the way” I look up at Filip, still trying to figure out how to best respond. I shake my head, and he almost looks disappointed, but not terribly surprised. “Guess it takes selective focus to get as good as you are” I smile softly, then return to my note.

Then I show him the sentence.

_Just ask, and we’ll see what I can do._ Filip smiles.

“Great, I’ll tell Sarah and the others… I’ll see you at Music-class later?” I nod, and he seems to gather his things to go to his next class, his lunch not at the same time as mine, I presume. “See you around” He waves, and I wave back, then find the utter chock around me amusing as I make my way through the halls again.

But then, as I turn a corner to a rather vacant hall, Eris has me cornered, a cruel, amused smile on his lips.

I stop dead in my tracks.

“Hello Estelle, you don’t look too pleased to see me” He pretends to sound disappointed. “A shame, I have such pleasant subjects to discuss with you” I don’t move a muscle in my jaw. “Seems you’re steadfast in your silent act, still… Pity” He takes a step towards me, and I take one back, leaving my back against the lockers here.

He smirks at my clear retreat, and I curse myself for giving in to my engraved reactions to confrontation these days.

“Your friends from Hybern are absolutely delightful company, I don’t see why you’d clash with them” He muses, his amusement laced along his every word. “Amarantha told me such hilarious stories of you, of your ferocity they simply _had_ to put an end to, how they slowly did it, slowly tore your spirit to pieces” He smirks, leans in closer. “I am positively inspired” He purrs. “Now say, did you enjoy Meridian with Azriel? The food there is splendid, I must say” I pale, I feel color drain from my face, my body itself, and he only grins. “We saw you, of course, both of you. Azriel looked like he’d tried, but you, you looked lovely,”

I look down the halls for anyone, but all seem to have vacated the hallway, perhaps at his orders.

“I see what Dagdan meant about the legs” His hand brushes along the outside of my thigh, and I shudder in disgust. “You have phenomenal legs, pity he had to go break them in before me, I would have made it pleasant for you, at least” He leans in a little closer to my ear, and I am torn between furious and frozen in terror. “A shame you have Azriel nuzzled between those legs now, though I suppose you couldn’t do much better with that disgusting shoulder of yours. Freaks attract freaks, a shame you had to become one, though I assure you, I intend to make sure you remain one and not this _celebrity_ everyone tries to paint you as now” His hand trails up, and my mind begins to panic as it nears my shoulder, on its way there. “I’ll ruin everything you try to build, I assure you, and I’ll enjoy every moment of it” His hand is about to graze it, and I snap.

With all the strength I have gained from my training and eating, I shove Eris away, and he stumbles, stumbles all the way to the other side of the narrow corridor, hitting his back against the metal lockers with a slam.

When he gathers himself, he only laughs, laughs like a fucking maniac.

“You might not have bark, but you do have bite, I’ll give you that” He stretches his neck. “Common, do it again, I know you want to”

“Eris! You fuck right off!” Mor intervenes, stomping down the hall, eyes ablaze with fury, and a shy Elain lingering in tow, watching me with worry as I breathe in and out slowly, reining this frosty anger, this need to beat the life out of this piece of shit.

I get why Azriel found it difficult to stop. Eris has a very punch-able face.

“Mor! How lovely to see you” He slaps him right across the face.

“Stay away from my friend, you hear me!” He reaches a hand up and massages his reddening cheek, but he only laughs at the display.

“Seems the cavalry’s arrived, Dreever” He straightens, looks down at the fuming Mor before him. “Good hit, Veritas” And with that, he leaves the way we came, apparently not about to head to lunch.

I’m glad.

Mor stands there, fuming as she watches him go, and I watch him too, his words replaying in my head over and over. Then Elain comes into my line of sight, worry clear in her doe eyes.

“We should get to lunch… Tell the others…” She says softly, and Mor seems to snap out of it, looking to sweet Elain.

“Yeah… Yeah you’re right” She looks to me. “Are you okay?” I nod slowly, looking to her, then down the empty hall, down towards lunch.

“Fine…” I mumble, and the silence is tense as we make our way to lunch, surely going to discuss this with everyone else.

Õ

When we sit down, everyone’s already there, eating and chatting happily. Then Rhy’s looks to us, and his face immediately falls.

“What’s happened?” He asks as we move to take our seats, and Azriel’s gaze is pressing and studying as he looks me over, the question clear in his eyes.

“Eris happened” Silence, and Azriels eyes hone in on me.

“Did he hurt you” He asks, tone chilly and promising of violence were it the case.

I shake my head softly.

“I’d says she gave him a good shove into the lockers, which he deserved” Mor grumbles. “I also slapped him” She sounds proud of that.

“What did he want?” Feyre asks Mor, and Mor looks to me.

“I don’t know, he had Estelle cornered when I saw them down the hall, couldn’t hear what he was saying” I gulp as all eyes land on me. I settle my own on Azriel’s, and he vigilantly waits for my answer.

_She was here regarding me._ His face grows tense, and he looks to his circle, his family. Our family.

“Amarantha was here for her, to… Discuss you?” Azriel looks to me again, and I nod, he hardly looks pleased. “Did he say why” I nod again.

_He wanted inspiration, intel._ I look down at my plate. _He wants to ruin me for his own entertainment._ Azriel looks about ready to commit murder, were there no legal restrictions on the matter. Everyone around the table have gone quiet as they watch our silent conversation, surely able to see the ice frosting over Azriel with each second that passes.

“I assume he wants to do so by digging up your past” I nod, and he looks to the others. “Can you lot at least figure what we’re talking about” His cold tone suggests he’s in no mood to translate.

“Bad stuff, keep Estelle safe” Nesta says, her tone harsh, but settled on her observation. Azriel nods.

“You’re not walking the halls alone again, alright?” Mor says, pointing at me. “Eris’ too much of a wuss to do anything when there are many of us, unless he has his brothers around” Azriel looks to Elain.

“Could you ask Lucien to monitor his brothers” Elain flushes red, but nods meekly.

“I’ll ask…” She whispers, hiding her face in the strands of her golden brown hair.

“If we’re lucky, we might gain incriminating evidence on some of them” My gaze shifts to Amren, something strange happening to my heart. “On all who hurt you, really” I know my mouth is partially agape, and I swiftly close it, look down at my food and shove the thought aside, well aware that there is nothing on them, nothing that would convict them for what they did to me, and that is just something I have to learn to live with.

What matters is that I survive these years in College, no matter what Eris decides to do. I’ll have the Circle no matter what, I’ll be alright no matter what. I’ll have Azriel, no matter what.

Õ

Azriel walks me to music class, his own class canceled due to a sick teacher, so, with the twenty minutes to spare before my class actually starts, I ask my teacher to let us in early to play a little. He seems reluctant, considering Azriel is with me, but I smile such a genuine smile his way that he seems stunned enough to just give me them.

I make my way to the piano, sit myself down, but Azriel lingers by the closed door while I slowly start typing out a tune. I look up to see what he’s doing, only to find his eyes set on one of the guitars strung up on the wall.

“You can take one down, if you want” I say, my throat a little hoarse after hours of silence. This snaps him back to reality, and his hair sways as he looks to me, seeming to decide against it as he comes to sit down beside me.

“When you sing” I smile.

“You have to at least do some practice first, I have been” He looks to the side, then sighs.

“Tell me all Eris said” I pause my playing and take a deep breath.

“He said he called Amarantha here to discuss me, my past, said he got very inspired by it” I sigh. “He… Also saw us at Meridian” Azriel tenses. “And… He talked about… Dagdan… That they’ve had direct contact… Discussed me…”

“Dagdan… The _Prince_ of Hybern… Is he…?”

“ _Him?_ Yes” Azriel stops breathing for a moment. “He and Brannagh had their fun, all because I called her a bitch and slapped her across the face for being just that, a bitch” Azriel settles his hand above mine, and I realize they have begin to tremble.

“They’ll pay, some day” I look up at him.

“There’s no evidence, and their father darkened everything too” There is silent determination in Azriel’s amber eyes.

“People slip, they always do, the trick is to catch them when they do” He blinks, then reaches out his hand expectantly. “Hand me your phone” I oblige, and he effortlessly types past my code and into my phone.

I’m not surprised, I know his code too.

“What are you doing?” I ask, leaning in closer to see as he types his way into the app store.

“I’m downloading something for you” He mumbles. “It’s a software that when given a button command, like double pressing the home button, starts voice recording” I begin to piece his intent together. “If you ever get confronted again, alone or with someone around, you start recording it” The app downloads, and he types his way into it. “What shortcut do you want?” He looks to me, and I’m momentarily stunned by his gorgeous eyes, filled by this determination to protect, to keep safe.

Before I really react, I reach up and pull him down to me, lock his lips with mine and let them dance, leaving me breathless as I allow us to part. He leans his forehead against mine, breathes deeply as he catches his as well, and I gently clear my throat to give him my answer, recalling the question.

“Double home button works fine, I don’t use that for anything else” He nods slightly, then leans back to sort it out to me.

“You can send these files via text too, it’s very efficient” He says as he hands me back my phone.

“Thank you” I say softly as I take my phone and settle it in my pocket again, then look back up at him. “You… Should go before my class starts” He nods softly.

“Yeah… I’ll drive you to work later” I smile.

“You’re such a dad” He snorts.

“I told you to stop calling me that” I reach up and settle my hand atop his cheek.

“I know… I… I’m just messing with you, you’re… The best thing that’s ever happened to me” His cheeks flush, as do mine, but I cannot deny the truth of those words.

At a loss for words it seems, he leans down and kisses me instead, and the message is clear through it, even if neither of us dare say the words aloud yet. He pulls back, runs his gloved hand along the side of my face in a gentle caress, then stands, letting my hand fall from his shoulder into my lap, and I watch him as he steps for that door, my heart longing to have him here with me again, be he mere steps away.

I start playing again as he picks up his things and heads for the door, but the door opens significantly sooner than his footsteps reach it.

“Oh! Hi” A shaky voice says, Sarah’s voice, and I perk my head up to see.

“Hi” Azriel answers, a little tense with the surprise of this encounter. There’s a moment of awkward silence. “I was just leaving” Azriel says, his tone low, almost apologetic.

“Right, you do that” Sarah answers, clearly unnerved. I see him cast me a glance, a slight, tense smile on his lips, then he leaves an uncomfortable Sarah just in the doorway.

“Mother help me…” Sarah mumbles under her breath, closing the door behind her and stepping into the music-room, her deep blue eyes landing on me. “Alright that explains a lot” She breathes as she realizes I’m here.

Unsure what else to do, I start playing idly, just some random melody I make up on the spot.

“So, Azriel huh, he hangs around you a lot, doesn’t he” Her words are cautious, mildly questioning. I lift my gaze to her, leaned against the end of the grand piano now.

I tug out my note-book and scribble a few words, then slide it over for her to read.

_He_ _knows how to talk to me_.

“Well, yeah, I’ve noticed _that_. Guess it’s nice to have someone around who understands you better without this back and forth” She chucks the book back to me, and I write out my response, then shove it back to her.

_I don’t mind this._ I admit, and she smiles.

“I heard Filip had a chat with you, and that you scared the shit out of some of my courtmates in Creative Writing” I smile faintly, she chucks back my book, and I chuck back my response.

_They were talking shit like I’m deaf, and yes, Filip and I “spoke”, I’d love to be a part time member._ She simply beams, laughs lightly.

“You’re definitely not deaf, they had it coming. And that’s great! You were a real blast to work with, you know, your talent is impressive” I look down at the keys before me, play some tunes, narrowly remembering to stop the notebook as she slides it across the piano for me to answer.

I don’t know what to answer though.

“What’s this song you’re playing, I’ve never heard it” That gives me something to write.

_Nothing, I’m making it up as I go._ She looks seriously surprised then.

“Actually?” I nod. “Do you compose?” I nod again, then she pauses for a second. “We’ve been thinking about making our own songs lately, maybe keep doing so next year and stuff, but we don’t really have the skill for it, or the ear” She holds my gaze for a second. “You clearly do… Would you like to have a hand in it? Work with us?” I simply stare back at her for a moment, then shakily reach for my pen tow write back my answer.

_Yes._ I barely believe it myself.

She looks absolutely thrilled.


	12. Thick skin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Defiance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can write fluff fine enough in my opinion, but when it gets a little hotter than that I just kinda... Never feel like it's good enough. I hope it's not too terrible though, what I've gotten to so far.

“I’ll stay around until you end, drive you home as well” Azriel says as he stops before my work, and I turn to him, tug off my helmet and give him a look that says he doesn’t have to watch over me like a hawk, he only looks pleading as he takes off his helmet.

“You have essays to write” I mumble.

“I can do them in there” I sigh and look into the pretty calm café at this hour. Then I look back at him.

“Fine…” He smiles.

“I’ll just park the bike” I wave him off and head inside, already losing time as it is.

I change, I get to work, make Azriel’s usual coffee as he heads inside and makes his order, settling himself at a corner table, at which I join him for my sandwich once I make sure Mary is doing fine on her own.

I snack while he works, mildly unnerved by today, but fine.

 _Can I stay over tonight?_ I cast him a look.

 _It’s a school night Azzy._ He sighs.

 _I just want to be around you, Estelle. I don’t mean to be clingy._ I look down at the tabletop, shiny clean as it should be.

 _You’re not, you’re being cute._ A smile tugs at his lips as I look up at him again. _I’m just being weird, of course you can stay._ I take a deep breath. _I’d love if you stayed._ His cheeks darken just a little, and I feel my own prickling with a blush.

 _I don’t have sleepwear with me here._ I look to the side. _I could sleep in jeans, but-._ I sign before he can finish his own.

 _It’s fine._ He looks unsure. _You have boxers, it’s fine_. He blushes a little darker.

_Alright._

Õ

We get home, the hour just around half nine, and I make way for the bathroom to tend to my needs and get my teeth brushed almost immediately. I soon hear a light knock on my door as I scrub these teeth, and I spit to answer him.

“What is it?”

“I don’t have a toothbrush either” I laugh, shake my head and move to unlock the door, letting him in and getting out one of my spare, cheap toothbrushes and handing it to him, a blue one I think fits him perfectly.

“There, you can borrow my tooth-paste too” I say, going ahead with my brushing again. Azriel does the same, looking content with his gifted things.

I finish up before him and head to the bedroom to sort out my school-uniform for tomorrow, dusting it off am little and folding it neatly atop my dresser, and soon I hear Azriel stepping into my room, closing the door to this rather small room behind him. I turn to him, smile softly, then look down myself, still dressed in my work uniform.

I head for my dresser, intending to at least wear a shirt or… a sports bra tonight, recalling how he’s been letting his hands be bare, and I have not let him see more than the peak he got that first night.

My thoughts are interrupted by the sound of cloth, and I look to my left, only to find Azriel’s shirt tugged off, his bare back revealed to me, with swirls of dark ink I haven’t noticed before, thought about, almost like a pair of bat-like wings across his shoulder blades.

They’re stunning.

Noticing my gaze, he turns back to look at me, and I blush, averting my gaze down to the floor.

“I didn’t realize you had tattoos” I say softly, returning my focus to my dresser, tugging out a comfortable white sports-bra and setting it down atop the dresser.

“Rhys, Cass and I have matching ones, it’s Illyrian tradition” I turn to face him again, only to find him facing my way now, those swirling tattoos of midnight blue snaking across his chest as well. I step towards him, not really thinking before I let a finger trace one of those swirls, his skin hot against mine.

“They’re… Beautiful” He sighs.

“Wish I could say the same about Illyrian customs…” He mutters, something vile in his tone. I know some things about those customs, though not much. I lift my gaze to meet his, settling my hand flat against his chest, feeling the thumping heart within.

“You don’t have to abide by them… You can be you, no matter your heritage” He smiles, and I trail my free hand down to his, bring it up between us and slowly tug that glove off, my eyes asking for permission, at which he nods.

I get the first off, reveal the blistered, scarred and rough skin, and I gently let my thumb run along his palm, then turn it over and give his knuckles a gentle kiss each before moving over to the next, doing the same there until both hands of his are free. They settle at my hips, his eyes studying me for a moment, until one reaches up to undo the buttons of this green work shirt, something I don’t protest over, simply letting him undo those buttons, one by one, until my shirt falls open before him.

His hand is gentle as it runs up along my side, inside the shirt, slowly traveling up to my shoulder, slowly shrugging off the left sleeve, revealing that terrible blemish of mine, my breath heavy and labored as he does, as his eyes skim over it, observe it with nothing but an understanding calm, admiration even.

He shrugs off the other one as well, leaving my upper body bare say for the plain white bra I’m wearing. His hand gently brushes along that skin, that strange skin I hate, and my body shudders, trembles with the strain of resisting the urge to push him away, to heed to my instincts and stop him. He gently settles his hand atop it, cups my shoulder, and I close my eyes as my breath quivers.

I feel a hand at my chin, feel a thumb brush along my jaw, lifting my face up to face his, and I shakily let my eyes part just enough to look at him.

There’s nothing but love in his amber eyes.

Slowly, he leans down, brushes his lips against mine softly, almost in request, and I let them part, shudder a breath and capture them the next time around, let his dance with mine for a moment, until he parts and begins a trail of kisses along my jaw, kisses that send ripples of electricity through my body, my neck naturally arching for him as he reaches the hollow below my ear, and he slowly descends along my neck, down towards that vile part of me, each touch both pleasure and pain as he approaches; each shudder equal times in acceptance as denial.

“Azriel…” I breathe as his lips reach the harsh line between healthy and burnt skin, the hand he has settled at my cheek doing a sweep along my cheekbone with its thumb, so softly, reassuringly.

Safe, I’m safe.

I’ll always be safe with him. Loved.

I gasp softly as his lips fully settle atop that harsh skin, the sensation strange, my mind torn between right and wrong. The hand he holds atop my shoulder moves, slides down my arm and settles halfway down my bicep, and I find my own hands gripping his shoulder and tugging at his back.

Too or away from me is still the question, so he remains stationary before me, about half an arm away as he slowly, gently, runs those soft lips along my rough skin, my body shuddering at the sensation, my heart beating out of my chest.

His lips draw back, though the sensation lingers, pulses through me in rhythm with my heart. I feel him take a deep breath, feel the hot air hit my skin before he straightens and faces me, his eyes dark with lust, yet laced with apology for it, reassurance, and even like this, in such a compromising position as this, I trust him.

Casting a glance down, my flushed cheeks grow darker as I see the clear protrusion in his pants, and I quickly look up into his eyes again, that apology clearer, almost ashamed of himself. He leans in and kisses the top of my head softly, draws it out, savors it, then lets out a soft sigh as he rests his own head against mine.

“You’re perfect” He mumbles, his voice a low rumble, his thumb doing it’s soft sweeps.

“I… Can’t satisfy you…” I mumble back.

“I don’t want to be satisfied” I open my eyes, gaze up into his. “I want to be loved” I let out a soft, shuddering sob, feel my eyes water, feel those hot tears slither down my cheeks, and Azriel is quickly there to kiss them all away. He simply holds me for a moment, holds me and kisses my tears away as I sob softly, overwhelmed by the love, the contact, everything, until I manage to pry myself away and continue to undress for the night, Azriel doing the same, though keeping close.

I discreetly swap my bra for the sports-bra, then slide my way out of my pants and socks, folding my work uniform as neatly as my school one atop the dresser, then look to Azriel, seated at the edge of my small bed, typing something, a gentle frown on his face.

My body still trembles from it all, from his touch, his words, but I push past that and turn off the lights before sitting down beside him, letting my hand run along his strong back while I lean my head against his shoulder. I cast a glance at his phone, see that he’s on a message chain with Rhys, asking where he is and if he’s heard anything else about Amarantha.

“You can tell him, if you want… I trust Rhys to not tell the whole world if you ask politely…” Azriel sighs.

“He’ll definitively tell Feyre”

“And Feyre will hopefully respect our wishes and stay quiet about it” He remains silent for a moment, then those scarred fingers type out his answer.

 _I’m at Estelle’s. Haven’t found anything more yet._ He casts me a glance, asking for some sort of confirmation, and I nod, figuring it isn’t too on the nose about it. If he asks, we’ll work from there.

He presses send, and the both of us seem to hold our breaths as the read icon pops up, and the dots of Rhys typing does too.

 _Is she okay?_ I smile, and Azriel remembers to breathe again, casting me a glance, and I nod to say I am, better now, at least.

 _Fine._ I kiss his tense shoulder, snuggle against it, surprisingly comfortable like this with him, despite the shoulder on clear display on my left.

 _I’m glad you’re admitting to it, Feyre and I have been going mad with speculation._ I smile, as does he, though faintly.

_Don’t be an ass about things._

_I won’t, I promise, nor will she._ I assume Feyre is seated in a similar position as I am, though probably in Rhys’ lap. _Keep me posted, if Amarantha’s out to ruin someone_ _else’s_ _life, I want to do something about it._

_I will, goodnight Rhys._

_See you tomorrow_ _._ And that’s that.

Azriel turns off his screen, leaving us both in near pitch until we accustom ourselves to the new darkness, and I shyly look up into his dimly lit eyes. He looks unsure, worried, tense.

“Lay down, Azzy” He looks to me, then moves to comply, we both rising and fumbling for a moment to get comfortable in this small bed, finding that having me lay on his chest is about as comfortable as we’ll get, as I refuse to lay on my left shoulder, or with my back pushed against the wall, and I am content with this, even if I… partly feel him beneath me, though only sometimes due to our height difference.

“Rhys and Amarantha have history specifically, don’t they…” I mumble where I lay, my ear pressed against his chest, just above his heart.

“They do” He says softly, his hands running through my unbound hair slowly.

“I assume it’s nothing pleasant”

“Not at all” I cringe. “It’s not my place to tell you about it, though” I nod.

“I get it…” I kiss his chest once, gently, his skin so hot and comfortable.

Õ

The next day goes smoothly, Rhys and Feyre only casting us a knowing look the morning after as they arrive with the rest of the circle, which I try not to blush too much about. They say nothing, not until Thursday comes around and Feyre and I find ourselves pretty secluded in the back of the art room, working on a casual assignment, a portrait of a person of choice, in a setting of choice.

Feyre’s chosen Elain in a field of beautiful flowers, and it is coming along nicely.

I had no inspiration before to get this done, spent the past weeks since school started again just sketching ideas, but after seeing Azriel’s tattoos last night, I got inspired. I just hope I can get this right. Right now it’s still just a sketched outline on the canvas, depicting a winged man against a night sky.

It’s obviously Azriel, but no one has to know that.

“So, Azriel and you” I cast Feyre a glance, narrow my eyes her way. “Not judging, it’s cute, actually” She looks back at her painting. “You’re both very subtle though, I’ll give you that” I scribble a note and shove it her way.

 _Unlike you and Rhys_. She laughs.

“Yeah, true” She casts my piece a glance while I keep trying to make a plan how to get this done. “Looks like a grand project there” I take a step back, assess it, consider. “Who is it?” I shrug, then step back and see to it that the background is planned out. “Just give me a nudge if you need help”

Õ

I spend Saturday working on my essays and studying for the upcoming tests, as well as sort out laundry while I wait for the clock to reach five, Azriel bound to come get me then. I have an inkling he’ll ask me to stay over longer, and part of me is all for it, but we’ll see, because I need to sort out my shoulder, and I don’t want to do it at his place, it’d feel strange.

There’s a knock on my door around ten to five, and I make sure to save everything and turn everything unnecessary off as I head for the door. I let him in while I tug on my jacket, and he lingers by the door while I sort out everything.

“You know, a fitting will most likely mean you have to wear the swimwear in front of her” I freeze for a second, then continue stuffing my phone in my pocket.

“I’ll manage” I’m not sure I believe myself, nor does he seem convinced. I reach up and tug down my helmet, then face him.

“She won’t judge you” I look away and make way fort the door. He silently follows, steps outside and lets me lock the door behind us.

I’ll be fine” I say, partly to convince myself. He takes my hand, reels me in and hugs me close, planting a soft kiss to my brow. With him to hold, I know I’ll be fine.

Õ

We arrive, and Ramona whisks me away to her studio, telling me how thrilled she is to have me test what she’s made. I try to match her enthusiasm as we step into the room, stuffed with mannequins and projects.

“I’ll need you to actually test the one I’ve worked on today, but you can use that changing room there, and if you don’t want to show me, just tell me what you think of it, if there are any needs for improvements or alterations” I nod, and she goes to get a bundle of clothes, hands it to me. “You’re safe here, anything I might see stays with me” I nod slowly, and from there head into that changing room and try my best not to think of anything as I get the swimwear on.

It's comfortable, I’ll give it that, the half cardigan doing well to hide my shoulder, only small bits peaking up my neck and around my collarbone. The white feels nice on me, and the faint golden threads suit my complexion.

I like it.

“May I see? If so you can step out and onto the platform before the mirror” I take a deep breath, then decide to go for it.

Ramona only smiles as I step up onto that platform, then she starts circling me, scrutinizing her work, and not me, I remind myself of that again and again.

“It fits, doesn’t it?” I nod. “Good, and the cardigan works as you thought?” I nod again, the sheer fabric airy and lose, working great as a veil. “Move your arm around a little” I do as instructed, and note that the cardigan travels up a little when I reach my arm up, and I quickly reach it down again as it nears the edge of my burns. “That’s an issue… I assume you want it to stay covering you… I could sow in the end of the sleeve a little so it ends here, how does that sound?” She shows me, and from what I see, it looks fine.

“That works” She holds up a finger, gets this little sharp tool and starts cutting up the seams, then nails the new diameter in place.

“There, should be better” I smile. “Overall it fits though, no lose spots?” I do a little spin, find that it fits great practically everywhere, with stretching room for more growth on my part, as my body is still returning to it’s former glory.

“I like it” I admit, and Ramona glows like the sun as she smiles.

“Good, I haven’t started on your second design yet, so this is all I needed you to test today, unless you have questions, you can return to Azriel in wait for dinner” I think about it, then reach my hand up to the cardigan.

“Will this be see through when wet?” Ramona nods.

“Yes, sadly, but I recommend you wear that for sunbathing only, the cardigan’s material not made for saltwater” I nod slowly.

“That’s fine” I step off of the podium. “Thank you for doing this” She smiles.

“Anything for those in need”

“What pay do you want for this?” I realize I haven’t asked that yet. Ramona only laughs.

“I want nothing but your well-being, dear” I cringe. “You don’t owe me a single Sovereign”

“I can’t just…” She puts her hand on my healthy shoulder.

“It’s alright, Estelle, this is what I do, I help people, and I can tell you’re someone who’s needed help for a really long time” She sighs. “Let me do this for you” I look down at the ground, mainly to hide the tears welling up in my eyes.

“Thank you…” I whisper.

“Go get changed, deary, I’ll work on the adjustments after dinner” I nod, and before long, the two of us exit the studio, Azriel waiting right outside, and despite Ramona being right beside me, I walk straight to him and lean myself against his chest, breathing a long, shaky sigh, and his arms are quickly around my waist, holding me close.

“Are you okay?” He murmurs in my ear, and I nod into his chest.

“Be down for dinner at six, dearies” Ramona says softly, and Azriel nods, I feel it.

“Do you want to go to my room and relax?” He asks softly, and I nod, let him peal me off of him and guide me to that room, let him sit us down on his bed and tug me onto him, let him hold me close against him, run his hand along my back soothingly, until all I feel is calm safety.

Õ

The weeks roll by, bringing us closer and closer to summer, and with that, finals. I am in a good place, my essays well ahead of schedule, and my art-piece coming along. Feyre has figured out who I’m trying to paint, and she finds it wholly amusing to tease me about it all while helping me achieve what I want achieved.

Azriel and I spend most weekends together, though so far neither of us have had the energy to go out and do anything crazy, so we’ve mainly been binge-watching Star Wars Clone Wars and it’s a good time, just cuddled up on that couch of mine. Totally not making out once in a while. No, not at all.

This weekend though, Mor has demanded a shopping trip with me and Feyre, one Rhys has promised to drive us to, and while I may be a little excited to head out with my new “girl friends” as you say, my wallet will not be as pleased. Mor asked Nesta, Elain and Amren, but Elain had some excuse about visiting a friend—Totally Lucian—and Nesta is helping Amren with final studies, so we made do.

Mor is blabbering my ear off in the backseat of Rhys’ car as we make our way there, talking about the things she’ll have me try, and I am both intrigued and terrified. Feyre and Rhys seem torn between concerned for me, and lost stealing heated glances from one another.

Those two never stop, do they.

Mercifully, they remain the only ones who we have officially told anything, and they remain the only ones who know anything. I assume everyone suspects things, but I think they’re refraining from asking because of everything done to me, probably understand that whatever Azriel and I have is something we’re taking slow and steady, and I am glad they’re respecting that.

Rhys pulls up on the parking lot and gets us a decent spot, and he shifts in his seat to look back at us.

“Don’t suffocate her in clothing Mor” He says with a trademark smirk of his, and Mor feigns offense.

“As if I’d do such a thing” She looks to me. “Right Estelle? I’d never go against your wishes” I smile.

“Of course, Mor, you’re much too sweet” She makes a ‘see’ motion in Rhys’ direction, he just chuckles, then looks to Feyre.

“Just call me when you feel done” She nods, and he leans in for a kiss, which Mor belches at and makes a break for it, exiting the car, and Rhys and Feyre just laugh against the kiss. I decide to get out as well, making a quick check that I have everything, then get out to let them have their moment.

The complex is huge, now that I see it, actually look. It is a little intimidating. A lot of our schoolmates will probably be here, so I make sure to remind myself not to speak unless I’m sure no one’s around, and because of that, I don’t notice as Mor steps up beside me.

“Exited for this?” She asks, and I don’t let my surprise to find her beside me show.

“Yeah, I am” I say softly. “Just keep in mind that my budget is small…” She nods.

“Of course, I won’t make you try anything too expensive, like, maybe between ten to twenty at most, alright?” I nod, fine with that. “But if I find something gorgeous but expensive, at least consider trying it on” I sigh.

“Alright…” Feyre finally exits the car as well, and with a gentle wave Rhys’ way, we all head to the large mall complex.

I stick to Mor’s left as we walk, taking in the large building, trying to recall the last time I bothered to go to one. Stepping through those spiny doors, I am met with so many people I instantly feel uncomfortable and insecure, and I fiddle a little with my sleeves as I follow along Mor’s lead.

She drags us to a store, a clothing store of all kinds, and while I try to look at things I might like—finding little—I find it hard to concentrate due to all the people around me.

Mor finds me heaps of clothing though, rushes me to the changing room to test them all out, and I end up in there instead, which is honestly preferable to being out in the open. I find some shirts I like, sleeved, but lose and airy, fit for summer, and within reasonable prices, and I decide to but some of them after some careful deliberation.

Before long, we’re off to another store, bags in hand. This time, Mor finds me a dress, a strapless yellow sundress, and while I’d love it under other circumstances, my shoulder does not let me enjoy it.

“Is it nice? Can I see?” Mor asks on the other side, and I knock once for no. “Aw common, it’s adorable on you, I’m sure!” I think about it, then approach the door.

“Find me a fitting cardigan and I might consider” She’s off within seconds, and I sit down on the stool for a moment while I wait, unlocking my phone to find a text waiting.

 _How’s it going?_ I smile.

_Good, Mor’s piling clothes on me, but I’m managing._

_You’ll have to show me what you buy later._ I bite my lip.

_I could have a little fashion show for you, depends if I’d rather it all be a surprise._

_Hmm, true, keep me guessing._ I smile.

_How’s your studying going?_

_I’ll pass the tests, I’m positive of it._

_You were supposed to graduate this year, weren’t you._ He’s silent for a moment.

 _Age wise, yes. I had to roll back a year in middle-school though because of what happened._ I was almost forced to do the same, had Prythian high not let me start sophomore year here.

_So you turn 24 this year._

_Yes._

_Old._

_Hey! Say that to Amren and she’ll_ _bite your head off_ _!_ I send him a laughing emoji. _I guess I won’t be buying those tickets to the High Symphony Orchestra that’s coming to Prythian this summer._ My eyes widen.

_What?_

_I’ve been monitoring the ticket drop for weeks, but guess it’s time wasted._ My heart is beating funny in my chest at this point.

 _Azzy, you’ve got it all wrong._ I send. _I’m into older guys._ He types nothing for some time, then those dots return.

 _Well if you put it that way._ I grin. _I’ll see what I can do._ I bombard him with heart emojis and he sends me back a kissy face.

I’m left grinning at my screen, but then someone knocks on my booth door and I stand.

“I got what you asked for!” I smile and tuck my phone back in my jacket pocket, then step forward to discreetly take it from her. It’s a white one, ending just above my waist, with long sleeves that work perfectly with this dress, and as I look in the mirror, I cannot help but admire what I see.

Now with the burns gone, I can focus on the way the dress hugs my curves, curves I have slowly been regaining these past months, and I find that it accentuate them nicely. Azriel would love this. Of course, he’d love anything on me, but this one… I think he’d particularly like it.

“Were there other colors to the dress?” I ask softly, and Mor seems to take that as invitation to look at me, as she opens the door a little and sneaks a peak. I don’t mind.

“There were a pastel green, a light blue, and a pale pink, but I honestly think the gentle yellow suits you really well, the blue one could work too though” I think of it, do a little spin and think of it.

“I like it… This color… I usually don’t on normal clothing, but this one…”

“It feels summery”

“Yeah, elegant, not too out there with color” Because the yellow is almost white, will probably appear white in direct sunlight, or very pale yellow.

“Buy it” I think about it. “Common, you look stunning, Imagine wearing that to the beach, to some walk along said beach” I imagine it alright, and I quite like it.

“Fine, sure, get out so I can change” She immediately closes the door, and I lock it after her.

I end up buying it and the cardigan, then Mor and Feyre go into a shoe shop and I find myself utterly bored. I look at things, but everything is much too expensive, and I already have those black flats, and a pair of white sandals to use this summer, so I don’t bother to buy anything there.

Then… They drag me into a lingerie store, and I feel lost amongst the bras and panties in all kinds of colors and fabrics. I can’t even consider some of them _clothing._ Just flaps of cloth that barely hide anything at all. I avoid those sections, look through the more… Casual ones, though definitely fancier than any I have at home.

The problem is that I need to buy new things, because those I have are starting to get a little outgrown at this point, except for a few of my _really_ old ones from before I lost weight, and I really need something new to change into. A bright blue set catches my eye, and I give it a look. It’s lacy and has a bit of push-up, but not an exaggerated amount, and the color is nice, the fabric soft, the panties not _too_ scandalous. At least compared to what Feyre is looking at with Mor further off. Another problem is that I have no clue what size I need at this point.

“Finding anything?” Feyre asks, stepping up beside me. I look to her, then the blue one before me.

“I… Like this one…” I mumble, and I see her smirk softly.

“I’m sure he’d like this one too” I blush a shade of red. “Why don’t you try it?”

“I don’t know my size anymore…” Feyre cringes slightly.

“Ah, well, try a few different ones and figure that out” She picks down a couple different ones for me. “Figure out what fits, then look for others to make things simpler for you” I nod and make way for the changing rooms.

The A size is an immediate no no, and the B is a little tight as well. C fits well enough, a little large, but I’ll grow into it over time as I eat more, so with that settled, I actually put on this set of underwear and have a look at myself.

Azriel would definitely love the look of this, this bright cobalt blue, but that is only secondary to what I think, and I actually like it. It’s comfortable, both the top and bottom, and it fits me well enough. It _is_ expensive though, and I can only afford one more, I think, before I need to stop buying things.

I change back into my normal clothes and put the wrong sizes back in place, then look for what that last one might be. I find a black set, a little fancy, but mostly plain, and I figure it’ll fit me fine, has a similar design to the blue one, and from there, I just wait for Feyre and Mor to find their things.

We pay for our things, decide to head for lunch at a local restaurant, and we have a good time, laughing about some shenanigans going on in the circle, shenanigans I am starting to become more of a frequent part of, despite my unfortunate work hours. After lunch, Mor and Feyre head into a jewelry shop, one I know has nothing within my prize range, so, I wait outside, look at the display windows and imagine what it would be like to afford these things, if I’d even want to wear such glamorous things.

As I’m looking at a couple rings, ranging from silver to gold, all sparkling with crystals and gems, I see a reflection in the glass before me that sends my blood freezing to stone.

“Hello Estelle” She purrs, her red lips curved into a feline smirk. “What a pleasant coincidence to run into you here” I turn to face her, unable to school my features into calm for a moment as I look into those black eyes.

I take a deep breath, settle myself down and slowly reach into my pocket, giving my home button a double tap.

“You look well… Better than I’d expect you to after… _You know_. Few can bounce back from all that” She says it as if she cares, but the look in her eyes is far from caring.

She brushes some of her gold-red hair back over her shoulder.

“But I guess a distraction like one of the Noctis brothers would do it, huh, I sure had my fun with one” She purrs, and I feel my blood fill with this cold rage. “Eris tells me you still uphold that silence oath, it’s honestly a little pathetic, and amusing” She tilts her head a little, almost innocently. “But I guess Dagdan broke more than just your cunt” She takes a step closer, leans in closer to my ear. “They broke it all, huh, he and Brannagh” She laughs. “No matter how hard you try to run from it, you’ll always be broken, and you know it” She pauses, holds her own dark gaze with my own. “We’ve won, Hybern always does”

“No” I breathe, and I watch her face twist in surprise, and I reach my hands up and push her away from me, only to take a step after her. “You haven’t won” I say, my voice clear, strong, determined. “And you never will” Amarantha actually looks surprised. “You can go back to the _hell_ you cam from and tell Dagdan to go fuck his donkey of a sister!” I don’t raise my voice more than I have to, but I let the message be clear.

Amarantha seems inclined to retort, but her eyes shift to someone else. She takes a step back, gulps, then looks back at me.

“You can’t run, Dreever” She hisses, then retreats down the hall before Mor and Feyre can get into the hall with me.

While they speak their concerns for my well-being, I reach into my pocket and make sure to stop and save the recording, and my calm seem to confuse Feyre and Mor.

“Are you okay? Common, answer us” Mor pleas, and I look to her.

“I’m fine. More than fine, actually” I look down at that recording, a gentle smile spreading across my lips.

“What?” Feyre questions. “What’s that?” She seems to see what I'm doing on my phone as I click my way into the audio recording, making sure the audio got picked up, but keeping the actual volume down, looking at then audio waves it displays instead. And it caught things alright.

“A recording of everything she just said” I say with a smile, and they both look stunned before me. “Azriel installed a software that lets me record with just a press of a button, phone unlocked or not, and I just caught every word she just said on tape” I’m practically beaming at this point.

“Did she… Did she slip up?”

“I can’t be sure, but if Amren has a listen at this, I’m sure there’s _something_ we can use” Mor looks to Feyre.

“Text Rhys to come get us, I’ll call for a group meeting”

“At my place for discretion” I say softly, and Mor nods, already typing her way into their group chat, one I have been added to at this point.

This could be perfect.

Õ

Rhysand asks questions all the way back to my apartment, is more than eager to listen to the recording, but I tell him—and the rest of them in the car—that we’ll listen to it together later, and he eventually complies, leaving us all eventually sat in silence as we ride to my place.

Azriel’s already there with Cass, Nesta and Amren, Elain still away with Lucien, but she’ll be informed later. He got in using my spare key, and I wonder what the rest of them thought about that, but that seems to be the least of their concerns as I step inside, getting my shoes off and stepping into my bedroom to just settle down my bags and calm myself down, and I hear the others settle down in the living room.

I know what this recording contains will officially reveal me and Azriel, and a part of me is afraid of that, but knows it is a sacrifice I have to make, know it will be fine either way. There’s a soft knock at my door, and I call for them to come in, not even bothering to look back at them from my place at my desk, looking out the window as I breathe to calm myself down, to brace myself for this.

“Are you okay?” He asks softly, and I nod, taken one last deep breath and turn to face him.

“I’m fine, I was surprised at first, but I… All I could think of when she started talking was that I had to press record, and I did” I look up into his amber flecked hazel eyes, find worry, but also pride in them.

“And you caught something good?” I nod softly, let his hands settle at my waist, let his comfortable hands hold me and my own hands rest atop his chest.

“I did, maybe, Amren will be the judge of that, but… She talked about us too” Something knowing enters those gorgeous eyes. “If I show them this, there won’t be any more hiding” He tugs me close.

“Then there won’t be any hiding” He says, and I find myself smiling against his chest.

“Common, we shouldn’t keep them waiting longer” I say, prying myself free, and I head out to the living-room with him right in tow, meeting all their expectant eyes.

“You caught evidence?” Amren asks, right to the point.

“Maybe” I say as I type my way to that audio file, then hand my phone to the small woman. “It was in my pocket, so the actual audio might be shit, but I had the microphone upwards, so I’m hopeful”

She cranks up the volume and I stand there in anticipation—with Azriel right beside me—as she presses the play button, as do all else around me. I’m not sure they’re even breathing as Amarantha’s voice passes though the speakers of my phone.

“You look well… Better than I’d expect you to after… _You know_. Few can bounce back from all that” Some cringe, glance my way, but I keep my eyes on Amren, keep my focus on shoving down the worry regarding the next line I know is coming. “But a guess a distraction like one of the Noctis brothers would do it, huh, I sure had my fun with one”

That grants me and Azriel a few glances, all but Feyre’s and Rhys’, the two of them snuggling a little closer to one another, Rhys’ face grim.

“Eris tells me you still uphold that silence oath, it’s honestly a little pathetic, and amusing. But I guess Dagdan broke more than just your cunt” This time around I allow myself to flinch just a little, and Azriel’s arm gently snakes around my waist and tugs me into his side, and I close my eyes to spare myself the looks the Circle is giving me, pained, enraged, apologetic. “They broke it all, huh, he and Brannagh” Her laughter makes the audio peak uncomfortably. “No matter how hard you try to run from it, you’ll always be broken, and you know it… We’ve won, Hybern always does”

“No” My voice barely makes it to the microphone “You haven’t won” This time it does though, and I open my eyes, seeing surprise in my friends’ eyes, to hear me speaking up like this. “And you never will. You can go back to the _hell_ you cam from and tell Dagdan to go fuck his donkey of a sister!” Cassian has the guts to snort, but Nesta elbows him in the side before he can fade into all out laughter.

“You can’t run, Dreever” Are the last words she says before the mess of Feyre's and Mor’s worried words reach the microphone, and Amren seems to deem it enough, pausing the recording. There are a few heartbeats of silence, then Amren speaks up.

“You and Azriel huh, can’t say I’m surprised” She hands me back my phone, and I frown softly as I take it from her small hand.

“Out of all that, _That’s_ what you focus on?” Mor exclaims, though seems conflicted as she looks our way, and I wonder if Mor _actually_ has feelings for Azriel, of some kind at least, because I can’t say she’s been stoked to find Azriel busy every weekend, often texting him about going to a café with him, or just asking to hang out.

Or she’s so used to having him pinning after her that she doesn’t know what to do now that he doesn’t.

“Is there anything in that we can use in a court?” Rhys speaks up, and Amren shifts her gaze to him.

“Maybe, verbal evidence isn’t as convicting as physical evidence, but her blatant comment, even referring to it by name, might have some weight to it, I’ll have to look into it all” Amren looks to me again. “Don’t edit that file, send it to me, and have it kept somewhere safer than your phone” I nod.

“Text me a copy and I’ll store it on my computer” Azriel suggests, and I go ahead to do all that right now, sending Amren one and Azzy one.

“So we might be able to catch those pieces of shit?” Feyre asks, and Rhys smiles softly at his woman’s foul mouth.

“Maybe, don’t get too hopeful” Amren says, saving the file to her phone and not just text chain.

“Can I just say something without getting assaulted” Cassian says, raising his hand as if in kindergarten, casting Nesta a glance, and she folds her arms across her chest and glares right back.

“Go ahead” She mutters, and he breathes a sigh.

“That roast was glorious, Estelle” I smile softly.

“It’s common knowledge those twins fuck” I mumble, and everyone cringe.

“If Dagdan wasn’t mad with you before, calling Brannagh a donkey will surely do it” Amren mumbles. “Be careful, little owl” I look to the side. Amren rises, and some of the others do the same. “I’d like to head home and look into this” Rhys stands along with Feyre.

“I’ll drive you guys home” He says, looking to Mor and Amren specifically.

“I’ll drive Nesta” Cass says, standing.

“I’ll stay here a while” Azriel says, looking down at me in question.

“Sure” I smile, a little scared to have him this close to me, but holding out for the sake of trust.

“I’ll update you all if I find anything” Amren says as she makes her way to the hall, and the other’s follow.

“See you all in school” I say after them, getting out of Azriel’s grip to say goodbye and lock the door behind them.

Feyre gives me a big hug, but Mor has already escaped with her bags out the door, so I get no chance to say bye to her at all. Even Amren gives my shoulder a pat before leaving, and Nesta gives me a dismissing nod. Rhys flashes me a smile, but Cass scoops me up into a tight hug and whispers something in my ear.

“Take care of each other, you both deserve everything good” I smile as I step back, nodding softly in assurance, and soon there is only Azriel and I.

“So… It’s out there” I mumble, and Azriel steps up behind me, snakes his arms around my waits and snuggles his face into the top of my head.

“I’d still rather keep things private though” He mumbles, and I completely agree.

“We don’t have to be like Rhys and Feyre, don’t worry” He chuckles softly. “Those two are… Kinky…” That chuckle turns into an all out laugh, and I lean right back against his chest, delighting in its sound.

“You don’t say” I laugh right with him.

“The lingerie she was looking at, mother above” He snuggles down into the nape of my neck, still chuckling softly.

“Did you have fun today? Beside the obvious” I nod, intertwining my fingers with his at my stomach.

“I did, my wallet did not, but I did” He takes a step back, and letting go of one of my hands, he seamlessly spins me around and settles me face to face with him, my hands reaching up around his neck, a bright smile on my lips.

“I’m glad” His hands do a gentle stroke down my side. “I’m glad you’re doing better…” My smile softens a little, and I look down, even if all I see is his black shirt.

“I am… I am… I just… I don’t think I’ll ever be _good_ , you know” I look up into his eyes, and I see nothing but understanding. “I’ll have bad days, just like you do… But we’ll get through them together” He smiles, reaches up to cup my cheek.

“I hardly have bad days anymore, thanks to you” I smile a little brighter.

“Neither do I, but they’ll come, I know they will… We’ll hold on to the edge, hold on to each other, and we’ll make it out someday” His eyes flick down to my lips, and even after all these weeks, my heart skips a beat as he leans down and captures his with mine.

If this is what my life will be from now on, I can face whatever pain to come, I know I can.


	13. Final weeks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summer's on the way

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my last prewritten chapter, and from here I can't guarantee that chapters will be frequent. This is just a project of mine I work on when I grow tired of writing my actual original story, but I do intend to continue the story, just at a slow and steady pace.  
> But who knows, maybe I'll eat my words and go on a writing spree after posting this, there's no way to tell for sure.  
> Hope you've enjoyed the story so far though, and thank you for taking your time to read this mess I've made.

Prom arrives, whisks Armen away for an evening of fun with her dear Varian, and the circle spends that Friday off getting wasted, without me of course because work calls my name as usual. Mary though—bless her soul—lets me leave a little earlier, early enough for me to get home at a decent time.

Stepping inside after a long walk home today, the weather pleasant though, I notice an extra pair of shoes in my hallway, and I cast a curious glance down the hall.

“Azriel?” I call out.

“Here” He quickly replies from the living-room. I hang up my jacket and step into the living-room, and sure enough, there he is, dressed in what would be his party clothes at that bar they were going to tonight, and he smiles softly as I go to sit with him, still in my work clothes.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, and he chuckles, snaking his arm around me and tugging me in against his side, his face nuzzling against my own.

“Don’t you want me here?” He asks, and I perch my legs over his lap, his other free hand quickly finding my outer thigh.

“Well, it’s a pleasant surprise, but I thought you were going out drinking tonight” He sighs.

“Not without you…” I smile softly. “We can still go… They’re at Rita’s” I chew on my cheek while I think about it.

“I’m tired” I state, and I am, though not terribly. “I need a shower” He takes a whiff, seems to think I’m good. I just laugh at him. “And I need to change” His hand slithers under my knees, and his arms pull me closer to him, then he stands, bringing me with him, and I squeal as I clutch myself onto him. “Azriel!” I protest, and he just chuckles, kisses my cheek in assurance, and when the initial surprise fades, I smile and get comfortable.

“No time to waste, Angel” I blush.

“Why are you so adamant about this?” His smile falters for a moment.

“I… We haven’t gone out for a while, you’ve been working so much, I… I want to take you out and have some fun” I reach up and kiss his cheek.

“Thank you… but you don’t have to worry about this, I’m fine with my schedule” He grumbles something foul about my boss and my hours while he takes me down the hall to my bedroom and bathroom door. “And besides, it’s almost summer, we’re getting a week of fun then” He sighs.

“But after… He’ll have you working almost every day, all day” I give his lips a peck before he gently sets me down on my feet again.

“It’s okay, we’ll have the weekends, I made sure of it, and the money I save up this summer will let me take more days off later on, it’s good in the long run” He remains skeptical. “Now, are we walking to the club? Because I didn't see a bike, and I’d assume you’re not driving there because alcohol” He nods slowly.

“I’ve asked Ramona if she could drive us out were you to accept, I’ll give her a call while you get ready” I nod, and go ahead and get that sorted.

I gather an outfit I think will fit the occasion. A pair of tight black pants and a new glittery black blouse to go with it, and under it I decide to wear those new black underwear I have yet to dare break in. With that in tow, I make my way to the bathroom, Azriel in the kitchen speaking with his bonus mom already, so I waste no time getting into the shower. Nor do I linger in the shower. I get myself cleaned, wrap myself and my hair in a towel each, then see to it that my face gets some kind of treatment, Feyre having gifted me some mild skincare for the summer, mainly sunscreen, but there was a face soap in there to keep my skin oil free and pretty. I assume it’s meant to get residue sunscreen off, but it works fine enough for this as well. I did wear sunscreen today after all, the sun getting pretty potent.

Then I get dressed, decide to let my hair dry a little before doing anything to it, so I slip into my room instead and get some jewelry on, just a silver chain around my neck, and from there I try to figure out what to do with my hair.

A braid would be the obvious choice, but… Maybe I’ll just leave it down tonight, let it dry as it is, yeah, it’s getting dry enough, I’ll just comb through it and call it a day.

I step into the hall, Azriel already dressed and ready to go, looking at his phone, presumably for a text from Ramona that she’s here, but his eyes shift as I approach, widen slightly as he takes me in.

“That’s new” He states as I reach for my black thin jacket and get my phone and keys and all that I need tonight.

“Yeah, one of the things I got with Mor and Feyre” I turn to him, and I see him quite clearly checking me out, and I can’t quite help the blush.

“It’s… lovely” His phone blips, and his attention is swayed away from me, then he pushes off the wall and moves for the door. I follow along, dressed and ready, lock the door behind us and grasp his hand as we descend the stairs.

I take the backseat of the car, Rowan’s car, while Azriel heads for the front seat, and we both greet his half-mom with a smile. I however, doze off along the way, and Azriel is forced to wake me up once we arrive. I cast him an apologetic look before biding Ramona goodbye and thanks, then step out to the pavement, Azriel soon by my side, giving his half-mom a wave before heading into the club with me.

Azriel heads to a table with certainty, and once we reach within eyesight of those in the booth, they all cheer their greeting.

“Eyyy! You made it!” Cassian slurs.

“Yeah, we’ll go order some drinks, we’ll be right back” They all continue their finals blabbering, most past us now, and it is a damn relief.

We get ourselves a drink each, then return to that cramped booth, a mildly uncomfortable Lucien in the mix, sitting with Elain, trying not to look scared of Nesta as she glares daggers into him. Feyre is practically in Rhys’ lap, and Cass keeps a firm arm around Nesta’s waist. Only Mor seems without attention.

We sit down, try to engage in conversation, but figure we’re not drunk enough to fall into it yet, so we clink our drinks together and get to work on fixing that.

One drink turns to two, two turns to three, along with a shot we all share, and I feel my head growing foggier by the minute, not quite gone, but definitely feeling the effects. It makes dancing very interesting.

At first I don’t want to put myself out there like that, but when everyone except Azriel and I agree to go to that dance-floor—as Mor insists we all do—peer pressure kicks in, and we both soon end up in that mess of people, trying our best to keep track of each other in the mess of bodies.

I lose him for a moment, only to get him back into my line of sight to find Mor trying to dance with him, and in my drunken mind, I find I don’t like that. Not at all. I push past the people and grab his arm, immediately granting me his fuzzy attention, and he smiles, a bright grin that makes my heart jolt in my chest. I tug him to me, and Mor seems to just slither away as I press him flush against my chest, holding his gaze, making sure he looks at me, and only me.

I stumble backwards as I try to bring him with me someplace, away from this mess, and he quickly catches me, only to stumble a little himself, his chuckle dark and pleasant just below my ear as his face nuzzles into my neck.

“I lost you…” He murmurs, and his raspy, slurred voice makes my me shudder.

“I found you” I murmurs back, my hands not shy as they run along his back. The people around us gone in a blur, an unfocused haze.

“You did…” He lifts his head, looks out across the haze, but I reach up and give his neck a wet, mouthy kiss, and his breath hitches, his arms tightening around me. “Common” He breathes, starting to guide me along, and I stumble after, one of his arms uncurling from me while the other stays at my waist. I stumble though, and he seems to find that just hilarious, his chuckles delightful enough that I don’t care. “How many have you had” I look up at him.

“Three and a shot? I’m fine” I say once I see his worry, and he smiles a gentle smirk.

“You _are_ a bit of a lightweight” I roll my eyes.

“I’m unaccustomed” I slur, and then we’re at the booth, no one else there, and Azriel slides inside, settles me in his lap, arms around my waist as he nuzzles into the nape of my neck.

I lean back against him fully, let myself bask in his heat, his warmth, the feel of his strong body behind me, and I just soak it all up. His lips skim along my neck, his hand trails down over my thigh, and I just embrace the touch, feel something setting alight in me as he caresses my body, a small spark that only grows as his lips fully close round my neck, kissing and gorging, though still remaining gentle.

It sends my breathing into acceleration, my chest heaving as fire runs through my blood, so different form my calm and cool, only ever a spark when Azriel and I touch. But now, I am a pyre, and I burn.

Azriel’s hand ascends up my leg, and my breath hitches as his fingers grace that place between my legs, clothed, yet somehow sensitive to his touch. He sweeps again, and that hitch becomes a gasp, and he stills, his lips dislodging from my neck, his breath hot as he pants as well.

“Sorry…” He breathes, tugging back his hand, settling it at my hip. A part of me is relieved, but another knows what he’d find had there been no pants in the way, and that other part of me is afraid of that fact.

“It’s fine” I shift in my seat, move up and angle myself a little to face him, and before he can protest and be sorry some more, I lock his lips with mine and let them stay locked, let my tongue play with his in gentle sweeps, sloppy, but confident, and that hand he runs along my back, up into my hair, is beyond phenomenal.

He’s making a mess, but I don’t particularly care.

We pull back to breathe, though it hardly helps as we breathe the same air as the other, but our minds are too lost to see that.

“Do you… Want to go home?” He breathes, and my heart flutters at the mention of home, a home with him, ours.

“Yes” I breathe, barely able to keep my lips off of his. He takes a deep breath, then nudges me off of him and brings me out of that booth, out towards the door, and I absentmindedly note that I have everything with me, and his jacket is still on too.

That we’re leaving the others behind completely escapes my mind.

Azriel waves in a cab, and before long we’re on our way home, my head resting on his shoulder in the middle seat as I snuggle his arm close. Then we’re at my door, fumbling to get the key in the lock. Then inside, locking the door. Then in my room, hands on each other, lips on the other’s, clothes pealing off of one another, until I’m straddling his lap at the edge of my bed, in nothing but my underwear, and he in his, my hands trailing the dark swirling lines along his back, shoulders, chest, all while devouring his lips.

He tears himself free, leans in to gorge on my neck, and I let him, I let him kiss that rough skin, let his tongue run along it, his lips gently suck on it, and it feels equal times terrifying as it is good. His hand reaches up to cup my breast, squeezes gently, granting him a louder gasp from myself, and he purrs contently against my neck as he does it again. I find myself beginning to lose myself in this haze of desire.

I’ve never felt this before, not to this extent.

I’m thrilled, yet scared.

His other hand reaches around my back, expertly undoes my bra clasp and soon I’m bare before him, panting and breathless, on display for him to see. And I want him to see, want to trust him with all of me, one piece at the time.

Azriel isn’t shy about it, lets his eyes devour the sight of me, and as those hazel yet amber eyes flick back up into mine, they’re a mess of emotion, of desire, of want, of admiration, and of love. It makes my heart crack and swell with love all at the same time.

His hand reaches up again, massages me softly, coaxing those gently gasps from my lips, and I can tell he loves it, loves every sound I make, loves the feel of me, loves the sight of me.

Loves me.

Even if those words remain unspoken between us.

He leans down, kisses the swell of them softly, kisses down, down, down, until he takes my peak into his mouth and I forget where I am for a second, forget I have neighbors as I let out a soft moan, almost forget to be afraid as he lays me down on the bed with him above, mouth still devouring my breast.

But even in my tipsy haze, I don’t forget to be afraid, if anything, my hazy head makes my memories harder to repress.

“Azriel…” I breathe, my hands reaching up to his shoulders, gripping them tightly, and he pauses, stops what he’s doing, hearing the gentle quiver to my voice. He lifts himself up, his dark hair a mess atop his head, his eyes alight with desire, but controlled, hinged.

He tenses as he sees the clear discomfort and distress on my face, and within seconds he’s off of me, almost falling off of my bed as he lays himself on his side beside me, his eyes searching my face as I pant, struggling to hinge the memories, the terrible, terrible memories I can’t escape.

Can’t run from.

“Estelle I…”

“It’s fine” I look to him, focus on him, on the specks of amber in his eyes, on the tan to his skin, the swirls of ink donning it. “I liked it all, just, the pinning, I…” There is only understanding in his eyes as he reaches his hand out to me, caressing my cheek softly with his scarred hand.

“I wasn’t thinking, I’m sorry” I smile softly.

“Don’t be” I scoot back and lay on my side too, well aware that Azriels eyes trail down to my chest before following after me, settling his arms around me before flipping us over, with me atop him.

This time, with the angle I end up on, I cannot deny what’s beneath me, and if my face wasn’t flushed before, it is now. Azriel’s tanned cheeks darken a few hues as well.

“I’m not… Despite what I might have… Relayed to you… I’m not ready” He only nods, hands gently running up and down my back.

“It’s fine, I don’t need it” He says softly. “Sex isn’t everything, I’d be just as content kissing you all night, being a little drunk doesn’t change that” I smile softly, lean down and trace a few kisses along his swirling ink across his chest, above his heart.

“I’m glad… I…” I take a deep breath. “I won’t deny that I… Enjoy this… Physically” His hands stop for a second, then continue their soft caresses.

“You know I agree” He mumbles, and I do, the evidence right beneath me. “Still, I won’t stick it anywhere near you unless you initialize it”

“I’m literary laying on top of it” I laugh softly.

“Well, I’m not making you lay on me, am I” He chuckles along with me, and I snuggle up into the nape of his neck. “But really, I won’t do anything you don’t want, one word, and I’m off of you, no matter what” I smile, feel all warm and bright inside as I snake my arms up around his neck and under the pillow.

“I know, you’ve never failed to abide by that” I murmur, letting my lips skid across his skin. “I trust you, my mind just… It’s irrational” He shushes me before I can go on a rant.

“You don’t have to explain yourself, I know” He kisses my brow. “I know what it’s like, not in the same way, but I get it” I sigh, lay myself down and just listen to the strong heart beating in his chest, let it sooth me, clam me.

“I’m tired” I say with a yawn, and he yawns too, the bugger contagious.

“Let’s get beneath the blanket then” He moves to sit up, and I follow right after, realizing, as I get up, that I need to pee rather badly, so I wrap my arms around myself and get that sorted, brush through my messy hair while I’m at it, the return to bed with him, get comfortable beneath the thin blanket, his body warm enough as it is.

“I’m sorry I… Repeatedly give you blue balls…” He chuckles pleasantly.

“I’ve been repeatedly blue balled for a long time, Estelle, I can handle it” I sigh.

“Have you ever…” I don’t know how to finish that sentence.

“I’ve had some flings here and there, yes, when I was younger” I try not to feel jealous of those girls who got a piece of him before me.

“Never Mor though” He sighs.

“No. Is that jealousy I hear?” I snuggle my face into his chest.

“No… Yes… Maybe” He chuckles.

“I only want you, Estelle”

“Mor doesn’t seem to like that too much…” I mutter, and he grows still beneath me.

“What do you mean?” I angle my head to look at him.

“Ever since we let them all know, she’s been… She doesn’t talk to me as much, she seeks out your attention specifically, and… I think she… I think she clung to your attention too, for some reason, liked it, and dislikes the loss of it now” He looks confused, but that clears into mild realization.

“Oh… Now that you mention it… It’s a strong accusation though”

“I know! I know… But think about it. Mor is used to being the center of attention, at least when it comes to you and Cass. Now Cass has Nesta, and you have me. Everyone in the circle has someone to be with, except her. I think she’s scared of being left out” I see the contemplation in his eyes.

“You might be right… I… I should probably talk to her” I shake my head.

“No, I will, if I get the chance, I’ll talk to her, woman to woman” He nods, and I snuggle up close against him.

“It’s cute that you’re jealous” I snort.

“I’m doing my best to see your past experience as a good thing, considering I know nothing about this kind of thing” Azriel freezes beneath me.

“You were a…”

“I was a virgin, yes” His grip of me tightens.

“I’m going to make sure that _man_ pays” I smile, give his chest a soft kiss.

“By all means, whop his ass for me”

“I’ll cut off his dick” I snort.

“There’s not much to cut off” I manage to laugh, despite the terrible subject, and it makes it all feel better, lighter. Even Azriel laughs.

“When the day come, Estelle, if ever, I’ll make it as good as I can, I promise” I don’t answer that, just snuggle close and let my eyes close, let my mind relax. “Wait… Have you ever had an… Orgasm before?” I wonder if the alcohol is what is weakening his filter, because those are not words I would expect to hear from him on a regular day.

“Yes, I figured that out by myself years ago, I’m not completely clueless” He sighs.

“Just… I don’t know why I asked”

“We’re both drunk, I don’t blame you” I mumble, eyes still closed. “It’s also a valid question, and I’d rather you ask than assume” He hums.

“Alright…” He’s starting to drift off as well.

“Goodnight Azzy…” I mumble.

“Goodnight Estelle...”

Õ

Mor continues her distant behavior the next week, the second to last week of the semester, but I manage to invite her over on Saturday, just for some tea and pastries, and to discuss the island resort. I intend to do that, but I have ulterior motives. She isn’t exactly stoked to do anything but sleep after the last finals week, but she complies, and at three on Saturday, she comes knocking on my door. I greet her with a smile, she greets me with one herself, but I can tell that it’s strained and forced in a way. We sit down at my table, I pour her tea, and I ask her a little about possible activities I can expect and what clothing I should bring.

Azriel has already texted me a list of possibilities, but if Mor happens to have other ideas, I aim to listen to them as well. This gets her talking, and she slowly seems to relax and grow comfortable about it all, munching on the cookies I tried to bake like they're actually decent.

Azriel said they were good, but I assumed he was being polite.

I think they’re stale and tasteless, but oh well.

“Swimwear is obvious, I hope” I smile.

“Yes, I have that sorted” I assure her, and I must say that the things Ramona has managed to make are perfect. “But Mor… I need to talk to you about something” I begin, and she pauses her gorging and sets down her hands in her lap.

“What is it?” She asks cautiously.

“I’ve just… Even since the Mall incident you’ve been… Avoiding me” Her brown eyes widen, her mouth falls slightly agape.

“I-I have?” Her stutter is enough confirmation that she has been, though thought I wouldn’t notice.

“You have, and as a psychology major, I know something is wrong and I have a general idea what. I don’t want to assume though, so I’d much rather you explain” She gulps. “I know you don’t lie, you avoid the truth sometimes, but truth is your gift, and you use it well” I let my eyes be a little pleading. “Please… Tell me what I’ve done to you” Her eyes fall to the tabletop.

“I… It’s really unfair of me, but… Seeing you and Azriel… Having you two confirm my suspicions… It hurts” I cringe softly.

“Azriel made it clear he liked you, why not embrace that already if you liked him” Her eyes are wide as she looks to me again.

“It’s not like that, I-” Her voice breaks. “I… I don’t like Azriel like that, it’s just…” She takes a deep breath. “What I am about to tell you _has_ to stay between us and no one else” I nod.

“Of course, I promise” She gulps, looks close to terror.

“I’m… I like girls” She almost whispers. I only smile softly, encouragingly. “I… I always have, more so than guys, but… My family doesn’t approve of such… inclinations” I see the puzzle starting to take shape, and I cringe. “Before, I had Cass to call when my parents got too suspicious, and Azriel after me to ward them off even further, but now… Cass has Nesta, and… Azriel has you… And I have no escape plan anymore” I feel a pang of pain for her, for having to hide such things. “I _totally_ had a crush on you as well, just a little one, but… I’m past that, I’m happy for you and Azriel, you are good for one another” I smile.

“If it really gets bad, you could always ask me and Azriel to go someplace with you, but only tell them Azriel’s coming along” She smiles. “I’d suggest a double date with a woman you fancy, if there’d be one, but I assume Azriel doesn't know this either” Mor nods, shame clear in her eyes.

“He doesn’t… But if you’ll have me, I’d love to hang out and… stuff” I smile.

“You know, you could just come over and _say_ you were out with a guy-friend when in reality you’re here with me or out prowling for lady-friends” A smirk creeps up on her lips.

“That sounds interesting, but does your schedule allow it?” I think about it.

“I’ll be working eight hours a day five days a week when summer starts, but the weekends are free, so we could cram ladies night into the Fridays and force Azriel out of the house for an evening” She grins brightly.

“Would he be okay with that?” I shrug.

“Azriel wants me to experience life more, and there are aspects of life best experienced with a female friend rather than your life partner” Her eyes grow curious at that.

“Is that what you are? Life partners” I blush and look to the table.

“We… Haven’t actually labeled it anything, nor did Azriel ever formally ask me out or anything, this all just kind of… Happened” I admit, lifting my gaze to hers. “We… Agreed to face our demons together a while ago… The terms then were always to keep it platonic, but… We both agreed the grounds the terms were made from had changed, so we… Embraced that”

“That’s… Cute” She leans forward, perching her chin on her palm. “Say, when exactly did you embrace the new grounds?” I flush, but keep my eyes on her.

“The night he stayed over after you all got drunk in my living-room” She smirks.

“Ohhohoho, that’s juicy, give me details girl” I smile shyly.

“We just… Made out on the couch…” I mumble, and Mor’s golden brown eyes twinkle with delight.

“Just that?” I cringe, and Mor’s face falls.

“We haven’t… Done much else, no” She looks ashamed for asking at all.

“Sorry, I… Shouldn’t have asked” Her guilt is painful to hear.

“No! No it’s okay, I… I’m moving on from that, I’m just not ready to face that demon yet” A sly, though shy, smile spreads on Mor’s lips.

“I’ve never heard someone refer to a dick as a demon”

“I wasn’t” I laugh softly. “But no, I’m not ready for _dick_ just yet” Mor snorts, then wiggles her eyebrows my way.

“Up for something that doesn’t involve dick?” I snort.

“No, sorry” She actually looks disappointed.

We chat and munch on the stale cookies for a while, chat about Mor’s life, and I tell her bits and pieces of my own, the better portions I can bare to share with her. Then I hear the lock turn in the door, and I know Azriel’s come home. At this point, he spends more time here than at home. He’s tried to compensate by buying me groceries sometimes, but I have managed to compromise by saying he’s already been buying me food these past months, and I value this as repayment.

He begrudgingly complies with this.

Mor leans back in her seat, a wide smile on her lips as they land on the man stepping through my door.

“Hey Az!” She chirps, and I assume Azriel is surprised to see her still here, considering his assessing silence until he turns the corner to my kitchen.

“Hey” His eyes drift to me, the question clear in his eyes, though his features remain neutral and pleasant. I smile, which seems reassurance enough to him.

His eyes land on the remaining cookies, and he reaches to take one, retreating to lean against the kitchen counter while he munches.

“How was the gym? Did the Circle miss us?” Mor asks him.

“Cass floored Rhys thrice” I bite my lip to hold in the laughter bubbling up my throat. “It was fun. And yes, we missed you both” I settle on smiling.

“Well, I didn’t” Mor looks to me. “I had a blast with Estelle and I’m not ashamed to say it” I avert my smile her way, then cast Azriel a look as he reaches for another cookie.

“You don’t have to pretend you like them, it won’t hurt my feelings” Mor raises a brow, but my focus is on Azzy.

“I do like them” I glare softly. “I drink black coffee El, the lack of sugar doesn’t bother me” Mor snorts.

“Good compliment, Az” But Mor’s focus quickly averts to me. “You’ve made these? I thought they were store bought” I shoot her a disapproving look. “Really! I did! I thought they were some healthy wheat cookies or something, they’re not bad at all” I shrug.

“It was my first attempt at baking, I got a rush two nights ago instead of sleeping and was so tired I lost count with the sugar” I explain, and Azriel munches down his second one like it’s the best he's ever tasted.

“They’re healthy, then” Mor tries to see the bright side of this.

“Right, sure” I sigh and reach for a cookie myself.

Õ

Snuggled up to Azriel on the couch later that day, watching some Clone Wars, I waver between sleep and awake as the hour grows later and later. His hand in my hair hardly helps me focus.

We leave next _next_ Saturday, and I haven’t packed yet, intend to do so… Thursday, when school has officially ended and I only have work on the afternoons still, so it’s fine, but tonight… No matter how hard I want to just stay here with Azriel forever and ever, I need to tend to the wretched part of my routine before I forget.

Sleepily, I nudge myself free from him and drag myself to the bathroom, hearing Azriel pause the show behind me and stalk after me, aware what grueling task I am about to subject myself to.

Just as I’m about to lock myself in, Azriel grasps my hand and stops me, tugs gently so I face him, and I find pleading in his eyes.

“Let me help you, Angel” I gulp. “Please” I nod, just once, a small, almost invisible nod, and he follows me into the bathroom, lets me grab the tin, his hand still clutching mine, then guides me to sit on the closed toilet, crouching down before me.

He takes the tin from my hand, sets it down on the tile floor, then slowly eases my shirt over my head with a little help from myself.

For a moment, he just caresses it—the burns—until he leans up and plants soft kisses to my cheek, nose, lips, down my neck and across the burnt ruined skin. I just close my eyes and force myself to embrace it, to focus on the good of him and not the terror this situation usually brings me.

“You’re safe with me, Estelle” He murmurs just below my ear, and I nod again, only for him to reach back for the tin and smear some onto his own scarred fingers, and lay them against my shoulder, slowly spreading the salve across it while I shiver at the touch, the cold of the salve, yet warmth of his body just before mine.

He’s gentle, every sweep with his hand careful and soft, and as it all is spread and done, his lips slowly trail up to my cheeks, kissing away a couple rogue tears on his way to my lips. Then his hands trail down to my hips, and in a gentle motion, it trails down to my thighs and lifts me to him, my arms instinctively wrapping around his neck as he carries me to bed.

Azriel doesn’t bother with undressing, just settling us down in bed to let today pass into tomorrow, his hand running through my hair as I cry into his shirt, arms wrapped tightly around his neck as I cling to the light.


	14. Resort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The past will always haunt us, all we can do is learn to live with it, allow ourselves to accept it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did go on a writing spree, yippie.

Amren’s graduation is nice, I finally get to meet Varian in person, and we take Amren to her favorite steakhouse to celebrate, where she orders the bloodiest of steaks I have ever seen. I am almost repulsed  by it .

Sadly, while they go on to party and drink, I’m whisked away to work, forced to watch video clips of their fun on Instagram and whatnot, but I figure I can catch up when we leave to the resort in about a week. I’m excited about going, but I know that excitement will turn my week of work next week into a drag.

What isn’t as exciting is dragging out my old  suitcase from the closet, a suitcase I have not touched since I moved in here, a suitcase that has been mine ever since I started moving between foster homes.  It’s brown and old, worn and repaired by myself over the years, some pockets sown in place by terrible sutures of my own craft.  So much history, all packed into a single item, and now I am taking it on another adventure, a good one for once.

I set it down atop my bed and open it up, look through the pockets to make sure nothings still in there before even think about putting in the clothes I’ve got waiting on my desk,  and that’s when I discover a tear in the fabric inside one of the inner pockets of the lid, one have not noticed before, or simply not cared to investigate. But this time I find the tear and feel something beyond it, fee l what I think is paper, and I carefully reach in to retrieve it.

A letter, a small one, and hand made from what looks like baking paper, feels like it too. I sit down on my bed and carefully open it.

My hand quivers as I reach for the content of the letter, gingerly holding it up for me to see, my eyes set on the small picture.

A man hugging a young girl, and a woman holding a child in her arms, no older than one or two, all with fading blonde hair and eyes the color of coal, say for the woman, her eyes a soft blue.

My family.

My parents and sister.

I blink away the blur to my eyes and flip the picture, revealing neat, cursive handwriting.

_We love you, Sunshine._

There’s a crack that tears through my body, my soul, and the tears fall unhinged as I sob, crawl up and cradle myself into a ball atop my bed as I let the picture and letter land discarded on the bed, old wounds long since scabbed being torn apart in me as I ask why, _why_. Why did they leave me? Why did they give me away? Why didn’t they love me enough to be there for me? Why haven’t they tried to find me again? I haven’t changed my last name, I was in the news for weeks this winter. Why haven’t they looked for me? Are they dead? Am I raging at ghosts? Will I ever get answers?

I barely register the lock turning in the front door. Barely register the voice that calls out to me in the hall. Barely register the hands that cup my cheeks and wipe my tears away, coaxing me to tell him what’s wrong.

All I can bare to do is look at that picture with a pointed gaze, and let Azriel sort out the puzzle himself before I withdraw into my cocoon of despair again.

I hear him mess with the envelope, hear him walk through the room a moment before the bed creaks and his warmth soaks into my side, his arm wrapping around me and nudging me against him, holding me close as I let the pain out.

Õ

Azriel doesn’t ask about it once I calm down, he just helps me pack my things and drives me to work when the time comes for it. He says nothing later that evening either, or on Friday, when we both take a lazy morning in bed just to snuggle, mainly because I don’t feel like doing much else.

It’s only on Saturday, while cuddled up before the TV watching more Clone Wars together—soon out of episodes and I hate that fact—that Azriel dares to say anything.

“Where did you find that letter?” He asks softly, though the words clear to me as I lay atop his chest.

“In the suitcase…” I mumble, my eyes locked onto the TV. “I’ve had it since… Since I can remember…”

“You’ve never seen it before?” I shake my head.

“It was hidden in the fabric, I found it by chance…” He just keeps running his fingers through my hair. “ Where did you put it?” I ask, aware he moved it someplace.

“It’s in your jewelry box” He assures me. “What will you do with it?”

“Nothing” I mumble. “Nothing at all… Just… Wanted to know…” He gives my brow a kiss and doesn’t pry any further from there.

Truthfully, I cannot decide whether to burn it to spare me the heartache, or keep it for the stupid sentiment.

For now I’ll just… Let it be where it is, I don’t have  to have it  out where I can see it, it can just… Exist.

Õ

Azriel and I take the bus to the pier over a week later, suitcases packed and ready for this week long adventure.  I am nervous, about a lot of things. Mainly the boat-ride out to the island, because one mistake and I’m done.

That fear is not reserved for simply the boat-ride though, as I make sure to stay far from the pier edge as we walk along the wooden path on our way to where our boat will come pick us up, apparently some taxi boat thing they hire for these trips. We’re the first to arrive, and we settle down on a bench as we wait, just listening to the sound of the sea hitting the shore and the seagulls screeching above.

Hybern had a coast like this as well, but I never really bothered to visit it. Yet, hearing this, it… It feels familiar. I assume it’s some distant memory from Cretea gnawing at me, but I can’t place it.

The Circle arrives with time, with various rides of their own, and soon enough we’re all just waiting for the taxi boat to arrive. When it does, I almost don’t dare hop on, but with the promise of Azriel’s safe embrace down in that boat, I choke my fear and let him guide me down to a safe place to sit, his arm tucked safely around my waist as the boat bobs and shifts with the weight of the others hopping on as well.

I don’t care if others can see the open affection, because this is a life or death situation to me, and I’d be damned if I didn’t hold on to safety out of some petty shyness.

I hold on even tighter as the boat takes off, but Azriel keeps his grip firm enough that I don’t really have to. Still, I hold on, barely able to enjoy the view of the archipelago as we pass, all because of the speed and the fear forcing my eyes shut,  but soon enough, I manage to open up just a sliver, and I find the network of islands beautiful, with rocky cliffs and sandy beaches all along them, as well as thick leafy forests.

I’ve never seen anything quite like it.

The island we eventually pull up to is  just as lovely.

A large, though modest house stands on the hill of greenest grass, a large patio leading down to the slope and a stone-paved path leading down to the eventual sandy beach or splitting off to the wooden jetty we pull up to to dock, holding a distinct L shape, and integrated with the rocky cliffs that line the right side of it, leading to what looks like a climbable cliff with a flat top.

Each side of this place seems lined with rocky cliffs dressed in bushy forests, small trails leading into said forests, and I assume they lead to the other beaches Azriel spoke of.

We get our luggage onto dry land, then the people, and soon enough, most of the circle—mainly Mor and Feyre—are racing to the house to probably call dibs on rooms, if my ears did not deceive me.

I’m too busy taking the scenery in to care about that, and to stay away from the edge as we walk towards actual land, the sand and rocks along the path crunching beneath my feet as we reach it, Azriel still holding my hand, making sure I don’t trip over myself as my eyes scan my surroundings.

The beach is vacant and neat, but the small lodge to the right of it—to the right of this bigger dirt road—looks like it has supplies in it, like canoes and whatnot, and I figure it’ll get littered soon enough, if Cassian’s talk about volleyball takes root, which I’m sure it will once everyone settles in their rooms and gets themselves sorted.

With the sun high in the sky—said sky a clear blue with barely a cloud to be found—my main interest is in the concept of sunbathing, but we’ll see where the day takes me; what Azriel might suggest, knowing more about this place than I do.

Picking rooms isn’t much of a bother, Azriel picks his usual, though with only one bed to show for it, but we've honestly slept in a smaller bed, so who does it hurt. I debate unpacking my clothes in the drawers, but Azriel doesn’t, so I figure it’s a waste, better to just keep things in one place and stuff, so sit down on the bed and breathe a sigh, which feels like the first true breath I have dared to take since stepping onto that boat.

“I was thinking we could head to the western beach later and try swimming, if you want to get started on that immediately” He tugs out a pair of black swimming trunks, setting them down on the dresser.

“Maybe… I’d like to catch the sun first though” Azriel nods, and dig down into my suitcase for my white swimwear. I note Azriel taking a peak, but no more before he slips out the room, saying he needs to use the restroom, but I know it's just some excuse to give me privacy.

This one  _can_ handle water, but preferably not according to Ramona, so putting it on basically means I have to change into the other one later if I want to swim, but I don’t intend to do so until well later, when no one will be looking for us and witness my surely poor attempts at swimming.

So I change swiftly into the piece of clothing, bringing my white towel with me as I step out into the small living-space between all the rooms, keeping it like a skirt around my hips as I head downstairs to see what everyone else are up to.

Cass is looking through the food we’ve got as I enter the kitchen, Azriel observing and taking note of all the things with him, both guys dressed in swimming trunks, leaving those matching swirling inks on display for all to see.

Azriel’s eyes shift from his notebook to me, and his lips part ever so slightly before they close again with a deep breath through his nose. I just smile his way and look to Cassian, who notices me as well, but is more verbal about his opinions.

“Wow Estelle, looking good” I flash him a soft smile and head to lean against the counter adjacent to Azriel. 

“I don’t think Nesta would appreciate such words coming out of your mouth” He grins and looks back at his food.

“If I called you ugly I’d be insulting my mom’s work, I can’t have that” I raise a brow his way.

“Are you saying I’m  _actually_ ugly then?” He sighs, looks to his brother for guidance, but Azriel just looks amused as he watches his brother dig his own grave. “I’m just messing about, what are you two doing?” I look between them, sneak a peak at Azriel’s note, finding a checklist of all the things and costs and all that fun stuff.

“Just making sure we’ve got what we need, we prefer not to head into town for food unless we  _absolutely_ have to” He picks up about ten packs of instant noodles. “I found them all” Azriel proceeds to note them down.

“I might be here a while” Azriel seems to almost apologize, but I just smile up at him. Then the rummaging of people descending the stairs sounds, Mor in the lead with Feyre and Elain, all looking eager to do…  _something,_ all of them dressed in swimwear of varying designs  and color, clutching towels.

“El! Let’s go work on that tan of yours!” Mor exclaims, and I cast Azriel a glance.

_I’ll be out soon, go, have fun._ I smile.

_Good luck here_ . He ushers me to go, and I soon join the trio of girls.

“Did you bring your sunscreen, El?” Mor asks as we descend towards the beach, and I mentally curse myself for forgetting it. “That looks like a no, oh well, you can borrow mine, it’s cool” I smile and continue down with them.

They spread their towels out on the hot white sand and lay themselves down with sighs of delight, and I do the same, thank Mor for the sunscreen and apply it to any bare patch of pale skin that I can find.

They chat about, talk about how the weather is going to be perfect this week, and how they’re all going to get so tanned, while I just lay back and soak up the warmth of the sun like I haven’t felt it for years, and honestly, I haven’t, not like this, just for the sake of soaking.

The boys soon join us, as do Amren and Nesta, and the gang is gathered.

Cassian’s talk about beach volleyball is answered, and soon a net has been set up in the sand, and most of the circle proceed to play, but I aim to get tanned, and right now, I just want to relax.

Azriel comes and sits with me soon enough, around the time I aim to flip to my stomach, and I greet him with a smile as I sit up.

His tanned skin looks warm and radiant in the high summer sun, his black hair shimmering in browns and gold as the sun reflects in it, and his soft smile only increases his glow.

“You look great, did I tell you that?” I blush and look to the side, well aware how little I’m wearing right now, how much skin I’m showing.

“Your brother beat you to it verbally, but I saw it in your eyes” I answer as I look up at him again, just in time to watch him spread out his blue towel beside mine and move to lay down.

“I couldn’t form words, you were too stunning” I smile, then let my eyes do a rather blatant scan of his body, on clear display in those trunks. He still wears his gloves though.

“You look good too” I delight in the sight of those cheeks darkening just a shade.  I move to flip over, but realize a small issue. “Hey Azzy, would you mind helping me put some sunscreen on my back? I can't really reach it myself” His eyes widen just a little, then they shift to the bottle of sunscreen I hold between us.

He looks down at his gloved hands and seems to consider, but I realize the issue he’s met with and decide to take it back.

“Never mind, I can try myself, you don’t have to take them off if you don’t want to” He shakes his head and reaches for the bottle.

“Lay down” He mumbles, and I heed his gentle command, getting comfortable on my stomach.

I hear the sound of a glove coming off, and soon the cool feel of sunscreen drips onto my back, and Azriel carefully spreads it out for me.

“ Just the back?” He asks calmly, and I nod, that the only place I could not reach myself.

Soon enough, I’m screened up and ready to fry in the sun a little longer, and Azriel lays down with me, his bare hand perched under his head as he lays beneath the sun with me.

We stay there, even as the circle gets to swimming and whatnot, just bask in the sun and silence together. Cassian soon goes to get lunch started, and soon enough we’re all gathered in the living-room, snacking on his rather expertly cooked food.

I join the Circle on the jetty afterwards, tempt my fear as I sit at the edge, though on the shallow end where I can definitely stand without issue, watching the patches of seaweed bellow, waving as the waves roll by. I spot crabs and fish down there, and I find it ever intriguing. Apparently they often fish these crabs for fun, compete who finds the biggest one, but right now they have no bait, and Rhys is working on fixing that with Azriel by some of the cliffs on the right side of the pier.

Nesta remains on the beach, reading some book while everyone else except Amren jump into the waters below just a little further down the jetty, and she looks content as ever in the sun and calm.

“Estelle! Common, jump in, it’s nice!” Feyre calls from the waters, having jumped with Mor just moments before. I look to them and shake my head in apologetic decline.

“Sorry, I like it here” Neither of them look pleased about that response,  least of all Cassian.

“You look like you’ve overheated ten times over, El! Give it a shot!” I keep shaking my head, though I will admit that it’s quite hot in the sun like this.

I get to my feet as Cassian approaches, a mischievous look in his eyes that tells me he aims to make me swim one way or another, and was my situation different, I’d probably accept the playfulness, just as Elain did when she was too scared to jump and Cassian decided to help her along by throwing her in himself. But my situation is not that, and he doesn’t know that.

I should tell him, but my instinct becomes to run instead, which he interpenetrates as a part of the game, quickly catching up and scooping me up over his shoulder, and I let out this mixed sound between actual terror and laughter as he does, which sort of blurs the line a little further for well meaning Cass.

“Cass let me down!” I manage to push out, hitting his back and flailing my legs. But he just keeps trucking towards that edge “This isn’t funny!” Panic is slowly starting to take hold of me, locking up my mind as I fumble for a way to get out of this and keep my dignity intact.

“Cass stop!” A distant voice calls out, and I spot him moving towards us, leaving  a confused  Rhys in the dust and a bucket bobbing in the waters as he sprints for the jetty.

“You’re scalding hot, you need to cool down before you get a heatstroke, I’m doing you a favor” I flail and protest and plea, but it’s not enough to get out of his steely grip, and my personal shame is holding the words I need to say in a steely grip  of its own that  I cannot pry  myself out of either .

“Cassian no!” Azriel calls just as he moves to shove me into the air, the sound of his feet hitting the jetty with intense speed reaching us now. But it’s too late, and the water becomes my destination. “She can’t swim!” Those are the last words I hear before my back hits the water with a painful slam, and I watch Cassian’s eyes widen above me for a split second before I submerge,  hands reaching up for the surface as the cool darkness consumes me; chills and stiffens my muscles into uselessness .

My breath leaves me in a burst of bubbles, and I narrowly remember not to breath in another, somewhat try to move my limbs in manner to get up again, to the light above, but it's senseless flailing without unified purpose, and it gets me nowhere.

Another body enters the water, their form streamline as they reach down for me, gloved hand reaching out to me to take it, and I barely clasp it before me tugs me to him and swims up, up towards the light, saving me from the consuming darkness below.

I gasp as we break the surface, my arms clutching Azriel tightly as I chip for air, my legs as tightly wound around him as I hold on for dear life, my body shaking with both the strain of fear and the shock of cold.

“You’re okay, I’ve got you” He whispers in my ear, his legs alone enough to keep us above water.

“I’m so sorry! I had no fucking idea you couldn’t swim!” I can tell Cassian’s devastated, but all I can focus on is Azriel and his safety.

“When a woman says no you listen to her! How hard can it be you moron!” Nesta, by the Mother, Cassian’s sleeping outside tonight, isn’t he.

“Elain thought it was fun! How am I supposed to tell the difference between yes-no and no-no!” Azriel sighs and slowly starts swinging for the shore, opting to avoid the Jetty entirely, which is probably a good call on his part.

We reach a part of the bay where I can reach the bottom without issue, and Azriel gently coaxes me down to my own feet, but I refuse to fully let go of him, refuse to leave his shielding frame, because my cardigan is soaked and sticking to my skin, putting it all on clear display if someone were to look close enough.

Azriel seems to realize, and he tugs my left side against him as he walks for the house, to get away from the prying sets of eyes, and I’m glad for it.

He brings me inside, brings me to the bathroom and urges me to get in the shower, to wash the saltwater away and soak in the warm water. I comply without hesitance, though whine softly as he moves to leave.

“I’ll just be outside, okay? Making sure the idiot doesn’t try to barge in and apologize right now” I reluctantly let him go and let myself wash, clothes and all, eager to get the salt out of my swimwear.

I wrap myself in a borrowed towel as I step out, wrap it over my shoulders and head straight into Azriel’s waiting arms on the other side of the door, and he doesn’t say a thing as he holds me close.

Õ

Cassian apologizes every chance he gets for the rest of the day, and I assure him it's fine, that he didn’t know, that I should have told him, but that doesn’t ward off his guilt, and I know it’ll stick with him for a while yet.

Nesta seems to deem it deserved punishment, and he’s indeed been banished to the couch tonight, but as we all settle down for the night, I think it might just have been a blessing in disguise. Because—even in these close quarters—Rhys and Fey re don’t hold back their rather openly physical relationship.

I’ll give it to them, they’re trying to be quiet, but sharing wall with them hardly helps dampen things down.

Just once, Azriel and I share a glance, our faces equally red where we lay—I curled against his side, head resting on his bicep as he lays on his back—and after that short glance—almost apologetic on his part, and mine just beyond flustered—we both make it a point to try and sleep despite it.


	15. Sands, shells and a sunset swim

We all apparently make it a point to not mention what most of us probably heard last night as we groggily eat breakfast, some still in their rooms—like Amren and Elain—but no one dares go up and wake up either of them. I have a feeling Elain is too embarrassed to see anyone just yet, and I can't say I blame the doe.

The only talk seems to be Cassian boasting about how comfortable the couch was to annoy Nesta, and he seems to succeed in securing the couch for the next couple of days, which I’d say is rather counterproductive on his part, honestly.

Azriel and I make it a point to leave the house early, Azriel saying he wants to take me somewhere, and I comply, holding his hand as he takes me down to the shed, grabbing us both these strange fishing rod things with a clothespin instead of a hook at the end of the line.

“We’re gonna fish some crabs in the low tide” He says, a gentle smirk on his lips. “It’s easiest to catch the big boys then” I figure joining the competition with a pro as teacher is better than nothing. He goes to grab a net as well, and that bucket of clams he and Rhys gathered yesterday, along with an empty one to keep the ones we catch in, and then we’re off to the jetty.

I’m a little uncomfortable being there again, but with Azriel by my side, I feel much safer, even though he insists to jump between the rocks below the jetty, emerged now with the low tide, and completely surrounded with seaweed, perfect crab grounds. The lengths he’ll go to catch these crabs seems to go beyond his self preservation, but I stay on the jetty, letting the stick give me reach and Azriel’s silent guidance help me catch these pinching creatures.

“You’ve got one on” Azriel calls out, but I can barely tell from where I’m sat. “Tug up, I’ll get it in the net” He assures me, and I carefully pull the line up, and sure enough, there’s a crab on the clam, a red one, and Azriel expertly catches it in the net and proceeds to then pick it up with his bare hands, staring the flailing bugger in the face.

“Is it decent?” I ask, the crab large in my opinion, but I’m well aware that I’ve hardly ever seen a crab in real life. My question seems to spark that realization in Azriel, and he does some risky moves to get to the jetty again just to show me my catch.

“It is, here, look at him. Isn’t he cute” I snort and lean back a little as he presents it to me, his own face twisted in a soft grin.

“Adorable” Hesitantly, I reach out to touch the shelly creature, mindful of its snipping claws. “Is it worth keeping?” Azriel shakes his head.

“Not really, we should send him back where he belongs” And true to his word, Azriel sets the critter free in the waters below, and I watch it swim away and hide in the seaweed again.

We keep fishing, Azriel catching a couple formidable ones, which he keeps in the bucket for now, a bucket he constantly keeps supplied with fresh water. Soon though, the others arrive, and Cass and Rhys join in on the fishing while the girls either swim or sunbathe on the jetty, Feyre helping Rhys out a little now and then with the net.

With so many people fishing for the greatest crab, I decide to be the keeper of all crabs instead, sticking to the bucket while they fish, tending to the water, though finding that the bucket it getting crowded, and it feels cruel to keep them so cramped. Elain joins me and agrees, so we head to the shed and find a larger plastic basin, bring it to the jetty and fill it with water, using rocks and seaweed Azriel helps provide us with to make a pretty little habitat for them, Elain hurrying off to find shells and sand to add as well.

We let them all in once we deem it done, and the crabs quickly find refuge in the coves of seaweed and stone we’ve crafted, and they seem much more content with the distance between each-other.

“Look at that small one! It’s so cute!” Elain exclaims, noticing a baby amongst the crabs, it’s shell practically the color of sand.

Carefully, I reach down to puck it up as Azriel did.

“We should let it go, it doesn’t belong with those big scary crabs” Elain agrees, and setting the small one down in the separate bucket we use to change the water, we head to the shallow bay to let it go.

“Goodbye little guy! Stay away from the bat-boys’ lures from now on!” I smile at her adorable nature, then note the term ‘bat-boys’.

“Bat-boys?” She looks to me, her big brown eyes wide in surprise.

“Oh? Well, you know the tattoos on their backs?” She motions at Rhysand, stood with his back to us as he valiantly competes with his brothers, said tattoo on clear display. “We call them bat-boys because they’re bat wings” I grin softly.

“Fitting” I admit. “Explains the Monopoly pieces as well” Elain nods, and I almost fear for her neck’s skeletal integrity with how intensely she does it.

“Yeah, Rhys breaks the pattern, but he’s more like night itself, so” I snort.

“Common, let's make sure our crabs are doing alright” She seems to realize we’ve just left them unattended, and she hurries to them, and I follow right after.

Õ

After lunch, I lay basking in the sun again, determined to get a tan. The others are doing some volleyball or continuing the search for the beefiest crab of all, and I am content with laying here alone, no doubt. I enjoy company, but I don’t need to constantly be present to be happy, and the Circle knows that.

“Hey” Azriel however, is always a welcomed presence. I open an eye and raise a brow in question. “I got you something” He says as he sits down on his own towel, laid out beside mine, and I sit up, curious about this something he speaks of.

He opens his clothed palm and reveals a handful of shells, but his other more specifically picks out a large spiraling one, white and plain, but larger than any of the shells I’ve seen along the beach.

“Where did you find this?” I ask as I carefully take it, fell the smooth surface of it, the solidity yet clear frailness.

“I went to the other beach to check out the other cabin, found it there” I look into the now empty living space of this shell, and I wonder what sort of creature used to inhabit this thing. “I want you to have it” My gaze shifts back to him.

“Really?” He nods.

“A souvenir to remember this place by” I smile and gently close my hand around the shell.

“Thank you… Can we look for more shells later though?” He smiles, the sight so perfect on his otherwise calm face.

“Of course, we can go to the other beach now, if you want, there are a lot there, or we can take a canoe to the shell island” I frown. “It’s a small beach where a lot of shells wash up, the beach is basically made out of grounded shells” The thought sounds interesting.

“I don’t think I’m ready for deep waters yet” His smile turns a little grim.

“You’d have a life-vest, but I get it, it’s better done in low tide anyways, tomorrow maybe” I nod. His eyes scan the beach for a moment, then settle on me again. “I… I was thinking we could go to the other beach after dinner and try swimming, it’s shallow for a long time there, and we could stay in the other cabin tonight instead of… Experiencing _that_ again” The suggestion sounds nice, preferable to that awkward time we had last night.

“Sure, but I’ll need to change into my other swimsuit then” He nods.

“You can change into it before we leave, or change there later, it’s up to you”

Õ

Before dinner, we head up to the house and get a small bag of things before heading for the other beach, also leaving his gifted shell on the bedside table for now, so I know where to find it. Then we’re off, strolling through the woods along a dirt path, passing that large cliff on our way there, and a part of me wishes to explore, but another dreads the thought of such heights.

The other beach is somehow prettier than the normal one, perhaps because it lacks a jetty and is all just natural cliffs and sand, except for the small though decently spacious cabin Azriel enters and sets the bag inside for now, set up as a kitchen and bedroom at the same time, and even a small sitting area in one of the corners. It has a bathroom too, roomy and clean.

But that’s not our focus, no, shells are our focus, so Azriel gets us a plastic box to store them in, then takes me out to those beaches and cliffs. The two of us search the shoreline for pretty shells, and we find quite a few, ranging from smaller spirals to regular clam shells in shades of yellow and pink, and some blue shells I love and gather in the dozen.

Eventually, Azriel and I just settle down on one of the cliffs, looking through our haul of things, relaxing in the afternoon sun.

“I hope you’ve enjoyed being here so far, despite Cassian’s lack of brain cells” I look up at him, spot the cold anger chilling his blood still after what happened yesterday.

“I have, very much, it’s all new and strange, but… I like it all, could get used to this, honestly” He smiles, some warmth returning to his features.

“I bought those tickets, so this won’t be your last new experience of the summer” I smile, brighter than the sun above.

“You actually did it?” He nods.

“It’s on a Saturday, so you can go, and I managed to get seats pretty close to the front” I set my box of bounty aside and fling my arms around his torso, embracing him in a tight hug.

“I seriously don’t deserve you, Azriel” I mumble into his chest, and his arms come down around me to hold me too.

“You deserve everything, Estelle, everything that’s good” I shift my head to look up at him.

“So do you, Azriel, so do you”

Õ

After dinner, Azriel and I sneak away from the group, clear of conscience as we leave them behind to head to the other beach, my main focus the nervousness of swimming lessons and nothing else.

Azriel assures me it’ll be fine, that I’ll get the hang of it soon enough, and I let those encouraging words chant in my head while I head into the cabin and change into my other swimwear—the blue swimsuit—and soon enough, Azriel guides me out into the shallow waters, painted in golds and pinks and reds as the sun sets on the horizon, a view we have clear vision of on this side of the island, a view that is so gorgeous I almost forget to be scared as Azriel demonstrates the simplest way of swimming, doggy paddle, and tells me to try and replicate it, to just practice staying above water without touching the bottom too much.

I do as he says, try my best to make it work, but failing profusely to stay afloat. He remains ever patient though, even as I curse my frustrations every time I go under and have to start again, his presence nothing but calm and encouraging.

“It’s easier to float when you’ve got air in your lungs” He comments, and I test his statement and find it to be true, but you have to exhale to inhale more air, so just keeping my lungs filled isn’t an option.

I realize my panicked exhale when I was sinking probably aided my descent yesterday.

I eventually grow tired of my repeated failure, and Azriel does not protest as I move to shore, sitting down on one of the smooth cliffs with him to watch the last rays of the sun fade on the horizon, slowly letting the stars flicker to life in its stead high above in the darkening blue.

Leaning my head against his shoulder, Azriel answers by wrapping an arm around me and resting his own head atop mine, his hand softly running up and down my side as we bask in the calm of the other’s presence, the peace of the other’s embrace.

A week of this, of nothing but each other and spontaneous adventures, no set schedule to keep us hooked to a time frame.

I’m not naïve enough to think this will continue past this week, that we won’t fall back into routine soon enough, but he and I both don’t mind routine, don’t mind the patterns and certainties they bring, but some freedom like this is nothing but good, I know that for sure.

“Why did you never learn to swim?” Azriel asks softly when barely a glimmer of light remains on the horizon.

“I just never did, the middle-school I went to had no obligation to learn, nor did my foster parents ever realize I couldn’t because they rarely kept me long enough to realize it, or go to the beach to find out” I take a deep breath, the air still warm and pleasant, though slowly cooling down with the lack of the sun. “I felt no need to learn when I moved out either, but… I think I was just scared to by then” He nods, leans down and kisses my brow softly, and I bask in the gentle affection.

“I’ll make sure you can swim flawlessly before we leave this place”

“And if I don’t achieve that?”

“Then I’ll keep taking you to the beach to swim this summer” I smile.

“You’re too kind to me… Thank you” He gives me another soft kiss.

“Anything for you” He murmurs against my brow. “Should we head inside and have a wash before bed? It’s not good to sleep with saltwater on your skin” I nod, and soon enough we’re both on our feet, hand in hand as we head for the cabin.

I get to shower first, remember to apply some more cream on my burns tonight, the water bound to dry it up if I don’t, and I can tell Azriel is well aware why my eyes are a little hollow as I step out to give him the bathroom, especially as I left the tin in there, the two of us aiming to stay here every night from now on anyways.

I don’t care for a nightgown as I settle in bed, just the undergarments, forgoing a bra though because it’s much to warm to wear clothes honestly, and he’s seen me plenty at this point, and I trust him to keep seeing it. The salve has to soak up too, so there’s that.

When Azriel finishes his shower, he comes and joins me in bed, lets me curl up onto his chest and snuggle with all that I am, and in the calm silence of this distant cabin, we find peace and rest we both are fairly sure the big house won’t be getting tonight either.


	16. Swindling heights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One step closer.

We leave early, very early, early enough that no one questions where we have been when they find us at the breakfast table, just about ready to head out to capture the day.  Today, with the tides low, Azriel convinces me to go to the shell island to gather some rarer shells, and only when he’s stuffed me in a thick life-vest do I feel comfortable hopping into that canoe.

Azriel handles all the steering while I paddle along, my paddling more like splashing, a splashing Azriel suffers the brunt of, but only laughs it off when I proceed to do it on purpose for his comment about what a splendid paddler I am.

By the time we reach the island,  or beach ,  Elain and Nesta have left the house, searching for shells as well along the shore, the latter seemingly just there to keep her sister company, less interested in the shells, though trying.

Azriel drags the canoe higher up the shore once I’ve gotten out, and the two of us begin the search. He wasn’t kidding when he said the entire beach was made out of shells, because at the water’s edge there are rows upon rows of tiny pale spiral shells that surely turns into the sand I stand upon when crushed with time.

I find a lot of fancy things, small ones or big shells of varying color and shape, but Azriel seems to be searching for some specific things, ignoring the all shells as he searches the water for whatever it is he’s looking for. I decide to ask, in case I happen to find what he’s looking for by accident.

“What are looking for, Azzy?” He shifts his gaze to me.

“There’s this shell we call nacre, it’s terribly rare” He looks back into the waters.

“Isn’t nacre just the shiny stuff in shells?” A soft smile tugs at his lips.

“Yes, but we named the shell nacre because we were young and knew no better, it’s stuck around” He brushes his gloved hand through the shells bellow the water, searching for this ‘nacre’. His glove is apparently waterproof, as all water just rolls right off of it.

“What does it look like?”

“Like a flattened snail shell, white and some brownish orange markings” He lifts his hand and creates a distance between his  index  and  thumb, which is next to nothing. “Usually around this large” Tiny then.

“Huh, I’ll see what I can find” And thus the search ensues.

We find no nacre, not before the tide gets too high and lunch grows near, something Rhys calls out to us, urging us to get back soon if we want a plate, and I must say that I’m quite hungry. The paddle back is easier, the tide pushing us inland by nature, and soon enough we’re back on solid ground, heading up to the house to have some grub.

At the dinner-table, Mor expresses a need to climb up the large cliff to the right of the beach to catch some more sun, and the good view, and all seem on with the idea, as are Azriel and I. So, after cleaning up after ourselves, we gather and head to the cliffs, apparently a designated path they all know of, those cliffs a common destination, and I follow along, keeping in the back with Azriel, letting him help me up the steeper climbs.

The higher we get, the stranger I feel, the closer I cling to the cliff walls, my eyes watching the ledges like they’ll somehow come to claim me, and even though the view is undeniably pretty, I find it hard to enjoy it.

Either way, we reach the top, and Mor sets herself down on her towel and basks in the scorching sunlight. Everyone joins her, even I do, but whenever I close my eyes, all I can seem to think about are the ledges not far from me, leading down to a certain doom I once craved.

My mind imagines me falling, slipping and tumbling off of them, some imaginings even showing me jumping willingly, and I find I cannot stay peaceful on this cliff. I sit up and cradle my knees as I watch that ledge, forcing my mind to assure itself that I am here and it is there, that I am nowhere near it. I reach for Azriel by pure instinct, grasp his hand and let it anchor me to reality, to life, and my tight grip seems to alert him, he too sitting up, his eyes questioning as he looks at me, but my eyes remain fixed on that ledge.

Whether he realizes the issue or not, I can’t tell, but he holds onto my hand, sits with me in calm silence, his thumb running along the back of my hand the only further movement I register on his part.

Õ

“Common, try the breast strokes” Azriel coaxes as I struggle to keep afloat with my doggy paddle, the sun low on the sky as we again find ourselves alone on the western side of the island.

“I’ll sink” I grumble, barely keeping my mouth above water to speak.

“Keep doing the thing with your legs, but try the arms, like this, remember?” He shows me the arm motion, and I suck in a deep breath as I attempt it, immediately going under water, and I scramble to get back up above. “You  _can_ stay below water and try the motions there, if it’s easier to focus on the motions rather than the floating”

“What if I can’t get up again” I spit water and blow it out of my nose. Azriel smiles.

“We can try this, then, if you’re scared” I raise a brow as he approaches, and soon his hand are at my stomach, just barely keeping me above water. “Do the motions, legs and arms both” I take a deep breath, then proceed to do them, letting his hands nudge me up and keep me somewhat afloat as I push through the waters. “You’ve got it in you, you just need to get a little confidence” I laugh.

“Because I’m a spurting bundle of confidence, right” He laughs.

“You’ve got this, El. I believe in you,  just keep swimming” I cast him a look.

“Is that a Nemo reference?” He smirks softly.

“Perhaps” I shake my head and keep doing the breast strokes. “Are we gonna talk about what happened on the cliff?” He asks after some time, and I ignore him for some time, just continuing to practice the motions.

“I kept seeing myself falling off” I mumble. “Seeing myself jump, even” I cast a glance up at Azriel, his features grim, and I decide to stop this session for now and speak to him face to face, and he complies without question as I get to my feet before him. “I’m fine now though, I just… I haven’t been that high since back then… Not without railings or walls to confine me, I… It just messed with my head” I let my hands trail up to his tense shoulders. “I was fine, holding your hand helped me stay in reality”

“ Did you want to jump?” I shake my head.

“No, no… I… I didn’t… They were just intrusive thoughts… Nothing more, they  happen to everyone, more so if you have ingrained fear of things. It’s at its core a defense mechanism to make you aware of dangers, and it sure as hell succeeded in making me avoid those ledges” His arms wrap around my waist, and I accept the soft embrace.

“So it’s normal” I nod.

“Don’t you have those strange thoughts sometimes, like, imagining yourself getting hurt or hurting another” He nods slowly. “They don’t mean anything, not unless you make them mean anything, I was fine, just afraid… And… I’ll probably keep being fearful of heights” He brushes away some of the wet hair plastered to my cheek.

“I was going to take you exploring the southern side of the island, but that’s all cliffs and rocks… Would that be a no then?” I pause, then shake my head.

“No… As long as you’re with me I’ll be alright, I think, I might have to take my time though” He nods.

“Whatever time you need” I smile, reach up on my tippy-toes for those soft lips of his, and they find mine expertly, and in the golden lights of the sunset, I let them dance undisturbed .

Õ

Azriel was not lying about the cliffs and rocks, even then, I hop along them with him, letting his hand guide me sometimes, and my own body do its thing other times. I’ve never seen such a landscape, just made up of big chunks of rock, and I find ou r adventure to be quite fun, our small picnic atop one of the higher cliffs pleasant enough in the summer sun.

We stay for some time, skipping lunch in favor of our sandwiches, an d end up just laying atop that cliff, far from any ledge, watching the clear blue sky above.

“Cassian caught a huge crab” Azriel eventually breaks the silence, and I cast him a glance.

“Oh no, does it beat your record?” He picks his way to a photo and shows me the large red crab. 

“It does, I need to up my game” I pout a little as I think about where we could find a crab to beat that one.

“Where did he find it?” He shrugs.

“He won’t say, in case there are more big ones there” I sigh.

“Where do you usually find them?”

“Amongst rocks and seaweed, but bigger ones can be bolder… We should head back, I need to go on the hunt _”_ I grin as he moves to rise, and I follow after him.

“Can I help?” He smiles.

“Of course, common, I think I know where to look”  He takes my hand and slowly helps me down the cliff, though keeps holding on, even as we enter the forest trail between us and the north beach.

As we near the big house, Azriel stops us both in our tracks, his eyes fixing on something on the road.

A snake, a small gray snake.

“Aww, it’s cute” Is my immediate reaction, even though those sharp fangs are put on clear display as it threatens us.

“It’s also venomous” Azriel adds, slowly guiding me to avoid the little bugger with a wide berth.

“I don’t know if I’ve seen a wild snake before, a foster-parent of mine had a pet boa though”

“That was just a regular viper, the babies are pretty venomous though, otherwise I would have let you get a closer look at it” I smile up at him as we continue our walk.

Õ

Cassian isn’t discreet about his current lead in the crab catching competition, constantly flaunting it in our faces as we reach the main beach, Elain tending to the huge creature in our updated habitat basin.

The picture didn’t do it justice, it truly is a large crab, its claws look like they could snap my finger if it really wanted to.

I don’t want to test that theory though.

“There’s no way in _hell_ you’re beating that before Saturday” I realize it’s Tuesday and feel terribly saddened by that fact, knowing we have to leave in just four days. 

“ I’m tempted to let you win this one just to give you  _something_ to boast about regarding size” Rhys comments, and the onlookers all laugh at Cass’s expense.

Azriel nudges me along to leave them to bicker, and I happily follow along towards the western beach. As we arrive, Azriel gets us into a storage room in the back of the shed, grabs a bucket and this floater thing and a pair of googles.

“So you can help me look” He says as he hands me the floater and googles, and I hesitate for just a second before taking them.

“What am I supposed to do, exactly?” He grabs himself a pair of goggles, puts them on, and I can barely hold myself from laughing. He motions for me to put mine on as well, so I do, just so we look equally  hilarious.

“There are these tufts of seaweed in the bay, sometimes, big crabs like to hide under them, you’ll float about and help me find them” He grabs a snorkel and attaches it to my goggles. “Now you can float about without having to worry at all”

“Sound fun, how do I know one’s there?” I ask as we step out towards the beach again, the floater under my arm.

“Look for claws, they lay in wait for fish to swim by, I can’t really tell you more” Fair enough.

“I’ll see what I can do” I say as we step out into the shallow bay, and soon enough I’m floating about on the floater, observing the tufts of seaweed for suspicious crab activity, the  snorkel keeping me supplied with air.  I find a couple crabs, but no large ones, but they prove they exist in the area.  Peaking above water, I spot Azriel along the shore, looking around the rocks there, his focus unwavering as he searches for the biggest crab in the land.

The hours tick by as I float about, feeling safe enough with the floater to keep me above water, but getting a little chilly with the  s heer time spent soaked today.  I truck along though, look at each tuft in search of something, and that’s when I spot it.

It doesn’t register as a crab at first because of the color, but when I do a double take I clearly see that yellow claw poking out from beneath the tuft, with hints of this faded pinkish purple. I push away the seaweed just a little, and the  _thing_ in there is a monster, the claw that snips for me terrifying, and I let out a squeal I think can be heard even above the surface.

I make sure I’m a good distance away from that thing before I even consider lifting my head up from the water, letting go of the snorkel and taking a deep breath before calling out.

“Azriel!” He gets up from his own search—floating about without need for help—his head whipping in my direction. “Come here!” He starts swimming.

“Did you find something?!” He calls out, swimming my way at a speed I can only dream of achieving.

“Yes! It’s an actual monster!” He somehow picks up the pace.

“ Where is it?” He asks as he swims to my side, and I point at the tuft just a couple meters before us. Azriel swims closer, and I cautiously follow, and when he submerges to take a look, I get the snorkel in and join him, pointing to the  _thing_ poking out bellow the waving seaweed.

I watch his eyes widen as he spots the pale yellow claw, and he breaks the surface again to breathe.

“That’s a purple crab” He breathes as I get up too.

“Is that a thing?” He nods.

“There are blue ones too in these waters, but purple is really damn rare” I smile.

“Can we even catch that thing” His face schools into the tactical calculating calm.

“I need bait, and a bucket, and a stick” I frown softly. “Wait here, keep and eye on it, I’ll be right back” And then he’s off, just a dark shape below the water as he hightails for the shore.

I just circle the tuft while I wait, watching with mild amusement as Azriel gathers his things, all while watching the crab.  When Azriel returns, he looks ready for war.

“How do we do this?” I ask, eager to help somehow.

“Using a hand to pick it up is practically asking for pain” He states, and I nod in agreement, those snappers huge and powerful. “But if I put this bait in the bucket and leave it open in it’s direction, it should get lured out, granted we stay fairly still” I nod, and he wordlessly hands me the stick while he puts the crushed clams in the bucket. “You make sure it stays in the bucket when it gets in, okay? Poke it” I nod, determined to get this done.

Azriel lays the trap, and the two of us watch in anticipation, watch those claws pinch at the waters before it for some time, as if tasting the waters, then it moves, that huge thing moves towards the bucket, ever so slowly.  I prepare myself and my stick, prepare to keep it in the bucket as it moves, but I am almost too stunned by the strange colors and sheer size to do it once it gets into the bucket.

Snapping out of it, I poke the stick into the bucket and keep the thing down as Azriel lifts it up, and soon we’re both stood there, with the largest crab I have ever seen.

“You’re right, this is a monster” Azriel admits, holding the bucket to his chest while I keep the crab down with the stick. “Let’s get it to shore and call over the others to show off our victory” I grin.

“Let’s”

I’m tasked with keeping watch over it as Azriel calls over the Circle, and soon enough I hear them on their way through the forest.  Azriel sits down with me, awaiting their arrival, and we both make sure to look just a little smug as they break through the treeline.

“Okay Azzy, show us what  _monster_ you’ve caught” Cassian starts, unable to accept that someone might have caught a bigger crab than he.

“Come have a look” He motions at the bucket, and Cassian stops in his tracks as his eyes land on said bucket. The rest of them seem equally surprised.

“How in the name of the Mother did you manage to find that” Rhys breathes, stepping forward to have a closer look, violet eyes wide in awe.

“It’s hard to miss, really” I state. “Though I almost did”  I admit with a sigh.

“Estelle found it?” Cass questions, approaching along with everyone else to behold this beast.

“But Azriel figured out how to catch it” I point out as Cassian narrows his eyes at us.

“We accept a shared crown” Azriel says with the slightest smirk.

“You sure deserve it, that’s the biggest crab I think we’ve ever caught” Mor states, watching that crab in awe. “It’s even a purple one”

“ I’d say Az and El win by default, no need to keep searching” Feyre states, and both Rhys and Cassian seem inclined to protest.

“The fight’s not over until we leave the island” Cassian insists, ever flaming with determination 

“Good luck, that’s all I’m saying”  Azriel stands. “We should let it go now before we hurt it or something” I stand too, and together we bring it back tot he ocean where it belongs.

Õ

“I’m mildly concerned that mister crab will come and pinch my toes right now” I admit as I continue to attempt to swim, Azriel’s hands beneath my stomach as I flail about with as much precision as I can muster.

“Well, keep your toes away from the seabed, then”

“ I’m trying” I grumble as I keep doing the strokes.  And I keep trying, keep moving through the water with determination and aim.

I am so focused on swimming that I don’t realize Azriel isn’t holding me up anymore until much later, when I realize I can’t feel his gentle nudges upwards any longer, and I stand up in the water, looking his way, stood a good couple meters away from me, smiling at me.

“Did I just swim?” I state, barely able to believe it myself, that I crossed that distance without help.

“I think you did. Try it again for confirmation” He crouches down in the water. “Get to me” He coaxes, and with the joy of this small feat coursing through me, I lay myself down in the water and swim, be it shaky and a little under water at times, but I swim, straight into those arms and let him pick me up into them, my laughter bright and joyous as I hold on to him. “ I’m so proud of you” He murmurs into my ear, and I lift myself from the crook of his neck to face him, my smile still bright and clear as I gaze into his lovely eyes.

I have no words to express how grateful I am that he exists, that he’s there for me in every way that counts and beyond, so all I can think to do is express it physically, my kiss deep and laced with all the emotions I cannot properly express, emotions I hope he can catch and understand none the less.

As I pull back, his smile is as bright as the midday sun, and I soak up the sight of it just as I have the rays of the sun these past days.

I feel words tickling the tip of my tongue, words I have never spoken in my life, not as far as I’m aware, but no matter how I wish to say them, I’m too much of a coward to utter them, no matter how my heart chants them.

“Let’s keep at it, hm?” He asks, and I nod, even as my mind is mostly preoccupied with tracing the lines of his face, my hand reaching up to brush along his jaw.

“ Let’s” I mumble, letting him set me down on the sandy ground again, a part of me longing to just stay in his arms, to keep those lips on mine longer, forever even. But for now, spending the evening swimming about, finding shells and being terrified of flatfish are pleasant enough of a pastime before the shower and bed calls our name, the stars above bright and clear by then, the moon nearly full in the heavens, casting its soft silver light on us, reflecting in the waters, it all combined turning the waters into a night sky in itself, the near pitch and lack of artificial light turning this place into something surreal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a little scared of the next chapter because I'm not sure I've gotten it right, so we'll see when I get the courage to post it. Hopefully soon.


	17. Mending touch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let the pain be replaced by good.

Azriel is determined to find those nacre’s, so while he searches for them on the shell island, I stay on the main beach, enjoying a game of chess with Amren, her cunning mind freakishly sharp.

“I’ve read every rule in the rule-book, little Owl” My eyes lift to hers. “The recording has grounds, but not enough to make any convictions yet. Either we need more statements, or we need physical evidence” A good way to ruin my day.

“There is no physical evidence, Amren, the mayor is their father, he covered it all up, all of it” She sighs and makes a move, and I take a moment to figure out what plan she’s playing.

“We have your testimony, but even that might not be enough…” She almost sounds genuinely saddened by this.

“So unless I gather more slips from them, we have nothing?” She shakes her head.

“We have something, just nothing that can be used on its own” I sigh and just decide to move a piece. “We will get our justice, just have patience” I nod and decide to keep hoping.

Amren wins chess again and again, and soon enough I give up, just laying myself down to soak up some sun before lunch, able to smell it on the breeze, whatever Cassian is cooking bound to be lovely today, as all days.

The crunching of sand approaching me disrupts my relaxation though, and I open my eyes to find a smiling Azriel looking down at me. I raise a brow, and he crouches down beside me, palm outstretched my way. I push myself up onto my elbows and take a look, finding a tiny, near flat spiral shell, white with hints of brownish orange.

A nacre.

“You found one” I say, looking up into his eyes again, his own bright and ecstatic.

“Just took me two hours” I smile.

“Your patience is inhuman” He grins, though it lasts for but a moment before his eyes shift up towards the house.

“I think lunch’s just about ready” He comments, and I take it as my cue to get up, as he stands as well.

“Great, I’m starving” I take his free hand and head up to the house with him.

Õ

That evening after dinner, Mor decides it’s time for some family game time, and we spend the majority of the evening playing Pictionary and Charades. The former of which Feyre is nearly banned from due to her impeccable skills, and Azriel and I are almost disqualified during charades because I _happened_ to do some subtle signing now and again, and Amren managed to pick up on it, threatening to gut us both if we didn’t stop cheesing the game.

It had the desired result, as I hardly dared to move my hands at all during the rest of the game. But charades is about showing, not telling, so I don’t really get what the fuzz is about.

All in all, it’s fun, a great way to spend Wednesday evening, but soon everyone fizzle up to their rooms one by one, leaving me and Mor playing cards in the living-room, Azriel looking on at the sideline, silently sheering me on.

Soon enough though, after winning one round after losing about three, Mor decides it’s time for her to hit the sack, content with her one victory, and she leaves me and Azzy to ourselves to watch what remains of the romantic comedy on tonight.

“Do you still want to go to the cabin tonight?” Azriel asks eventually, the movie coming to an end, the clock nearing twelve.

“Yeah, I think so… I have my tin there” I look back at him, laid behind me on the couch, his arms snugly around me.

“Do you need to put more on?” I nod.

“The salt isn’t good for it… It’s best if I endure it rather than suffer the pain again” He nods, and with a small nudge, I’m on my feet, Azriel right with me, both of us as silent as we can as we head for the front door, locking it behind us before making the trek through the forest, Azriel’s phone working as our flashlight as we traverse the darkness together.

When the sands crunch beneath our feet and I see the vast waters before us, painted with stars and shimmering in the light of the moon, I feel it take my breath away for a moment.

I saw this the other night, yet… Tonight, it… It’s somehow even more otherworldly, like staring out into a void of endlessness, no clear line where the sea ends and the sky begins.

“It’s beautiful” I breathe, barely able to find the words.

“Isn’t it” Azriel mumbles back, and I cast him a glance, find his black hair streaked with shimmering silver, his eyes catching the gentle moonlight, giving them a sparkling glow. And they were already on me when he spoke.

I feel my heart beating funny in my chest, feel my eyes fixate on his moonlit features, his bare upper body, the dark swirls that seem to devour all light, like permanent shadows around his being, but not the bad kind of darkness, instead the kind that comforts and soothes, that brings calm and peace.

He is my peace, my salvation and redemption, and there’s not a piece of me I’d wish to keep from him.

Not a single piece.

Reaching up, I let my hand cup his cheek, my eyes unable to tear themselves from those soft lips of his, lips that whisper my name in silent song, like a siren luring in a sailor, and I do not have the strength to resist them, do not want to resist them.

Azriel only lets out a soft and surprised sound as I nudge him down to my level, bring those lips down to my own and lock them in a dance with more fire than I thought I could hone, still had in me. His hands soon find my hips, tugging me flush against him as he takes the reins, his tongue sweeping along my lower lip in gentle request, and I open for him without a thought to spare. It sweeps along the roof of my mouth, finds that spot just behind my teeth that makes my blood simmer, then engages my own tongue in a tango of desire and need.

Combing my hand up into his hair—tangling my fingers into the dark strands—I lose myself in this, lose myself in the sound of my thumping heart, in the feel of my boiling blood, in the warmth of his body before me, so close, yet still so far off to my burning heart.

Escaping my lips, he dives down for my neck, teeth and lip and tongue setting my body alight, each touch like electricity—like lightning—this foggy haze clouding my mind leaving nothing but him and the points where our bodies collide.

My breath is nothing but heavy gasps as he stops, his own hot breath tickling my sensitive skin as he hovers just above, his hands roaming along my back as he reels himself in.

“We should get inside” He breathes, his smooth voice raspy with this gravelly darkness that only makes my blood grow hotter, and I can only muster a soft hum in approval through the haze of my mind, which he deems enough as his hands reach down to my thighs and lifts me up against him, carrying me up those stairs and into the confining walls of the cabin, setting me down on the kitchen counter, yet his hands remain glued to my being.

I can see it in him, the desire he always tries to hide—tries to hinge for me—but now there’s no filter, and I know there’s none in my eyes either.

We can’t blame it on alcohol tonight either, can’t brush it off as clouded judgment. This is us, and nothing else.

Leaning in, I let my face nuzzle his, my nose bump into his almost playfully as I gaze deeply into those endless orbs of want and love and all that is good, all that is safe. The eyes that I love, the eyes that make me feel loved, feel worthy of the space I take up in this crowded world, space I thought wasted for most of my life.

I want him, all of him, forever and always, and it’s terrifying to admit it; to acknowledge it.

Because If I were to lose him, there’d be nothing left of me to put back together again, his being so intertwined with my own already that we’re practically one and the same, two souls that make a whole.

“Azriel…” My lips grace his as I speak, and I can barely resist devouring them again.

“Yeah…” He breathes, his tone still that gravelly rasp, yet somehow airy and soft.

“Are you mine…?” I barely know what I’m saying, asking.

“Yes… For as long as you want me”

“Then you’re mine” I breathe. “You’re mine, forever and always” My hand gently runs along the side of his face, down along his jaw, thumb reaching up to grace the corner of his mouth.

“Does that mean you’re mine…?”

“It does…” My eyes flick down to his mouth for just a second. “All of me” His eyes widen slightly. “I’m yours to take”

“Estelle-”

“I want you to take me” It leaves him in stunned silence, and I can't honestly say where this confidence is coming from, only that I know the words are true. “I want you take me until I can’t remember why I’d be fearful of it to begin with” I appear to have broken him. “It might take some time, but I trust you... I trust you'll make it right" Something sparks to life in his eyes.

His strong arms lift me off of the counter as his lips crash into mine with a hunger so deep it takes my breath away, fueled by long suppressed desires I can only begin to fathom with my hazy mind too caught up in the flames within my veins as he brings me to that bed.

Despite it all, he is nothing but gentle as he lays me down atop it, careful not to pin, not to rest his weight against me as his lips leave mine and trail down my neck, impatient yet restrained hands reaching behind my back for the clasps of my top, fumbling for just a moment before getting it undone and easing it off of me, leaving me bare for him to perceive in the moonlit darkness, the gentle streaks of silver pooling in through the windows, as gentle as the gloved hand that grasps my chest, and the lips that trail down to my other peak right after it.

My mind does not approve of the gloves, demands nothing but skin against skin, and I see to that myself as I reach up for that hand—a hand slowly coaxing the softest of pleasant gasps from my lips with each cautious squeeze—unbinding it and tugging the thin leather off of it, only half aware of things as I toss it to the bedside table, my mind honed on every point of contact we share, even as I peruse his other gloved hand, planted firmly at my side, though compliant as I move to tug that one off as well.

Satisfied with myself, I let him touch, let him kiss and grasp and nip all he wants, focusing on each touch and the good they bring, letting the sheer volume of it drown out the whispers of trauma threatening to ruin me, despite my clear mental resolve.

With a last, finishing suck to my near achingly hard peak, Azriel moves down, kisses his way down my stomach, his hands following along my sides, and met with the unknown, I find myself nervously anticipating what he is to do, my mind holding enough theoretical knowledge to guess, but no physical experience to back anything up. Yet I let him descend, let his hands latch onto my bottom piece and tug down, only the faintest of gasps escaping me as he leaves me bare before him, fully bare, not a piece of me hidden by cloth or embarrassed hands. Because my hands remain at my sides, gripping handfuls of the sheets each as I pant through the burning within me, desperate to find some clarity in the haze, to not lose my mind entirely, to remember this tomorrow in every tiny detail, and not just a fuzzy mess of desire.

I find my eyes locked on his as he bends up my leg over his shoulder, his lips trailing up my thigh in gentle brushes meant to infuriate, I’m sure of it, because it’s working like a charm, my body ready to beg him to stop this torture, but mind willing to let him draw it out, to savor it, every moment of it. Every second.

“You’re not past the point of no return” He murmurs, perhaps interpreting my shudders of restraint as me battling mental resistance. And yes, it’s there, but much too drowned out to be heard or acknowledge on my part, though I’m sure the situation will change once he gets into a more… Familiar position. “One word, and I stop, no hard feelings”

“Liar” I breathe, and he raises a lazy, yet surprised brow. “You’ll be feeling more than hard” He grins, I feel it as his lips press against my thigh, his low chuckle sending vibrations all throughout my body, straight into the core that seems to simply beg for his attention, and I’ve never felt anything quite like it.

“I already am, Angel, we’re well past that” A lazy grin of my own spreads across my lips, but fades into pleased serenity as his lips continue their torturous game.

As if he hears my mental complaints, deciphers my sighs as longing and pleading—which they are—he stops his game and settles himself just above my lady parts, eyes still on mine as he searches for discomfort or silent refusal, but finds none. Not even a sliver of disapproval, my mind wholly and truly trusting of him, anticipating what’s to come, even.

With himself assured, his eyes close and his tongue plunges down, warm and soft as he expertly finds his way to where he wants to be, every stroke of his tongue precise and lethal, sending bursts of pure wildfire into my bloodstream, and my once obedient voice loses it’s hinges as I moan and gasp in breathless approval, my hands gripping the sheets as I struggle to stay on the mortal plane, struggle to feel anything but the burning pleasure tearing through my body like a ravenous beast, consuming me in all the right ways, the world around me fading as I lose the pointless battle.

“ _Azriel_ ” I breathe his name like it’s the only one I know, my own lost in the haze, forgotten and pointless. His answering hum is only fuel to the flame, and a sound so inhuman rips from my throat that I almost question whether I still am one, or if he’s stripped me down into nothing but one of the primal beasts we once were, and I find that I don’t particularly care.

Because something is building within me, this familiar dam ready to burst, the cracks in it’s façade growing with each stroke of his glorious tongue, until one precise flick brings the entire construction down in a flood of molten gold and a distant cry involuntarily torn from my throat.

Yet even as nothing but rubble remains of me, he lingers, coaxes every bit of pleasant heat into my blood before he deigns to lift his head, his heavy pants nothing compared to my rapid heaves for air.

Slowly—after wiping his mouth clean of myself—he crawls over me, lets a hand reach up to cup my flushed face, my eyes barely able to focus as I gaze up at him, into those hazel yet amber eyes, a mix of color that continues to surprise me, each look into them reveling a new flake of gold or green or amber.

“How was that?” He murmurs, his raspy and dark voice enough to make my core clench with rekindled need. All I manage to get out of myself is a soft, near delirious laugh, and his smile only widens in response, his thumb stroking along the sharp edge of my cheekbone. “I’ll assume that means good” I smile a little wider myself in answer.

Then my eyes cast downwards, the dark making things hard to see, despite the silver light, but still bright enough for me to tell that his swim-shorts aren’t having a good time down there. Returning my eyes to him, I rediscover my cognitive ability to form a sentence.

“You're severely overdressed” He grins.

“Wanna help me with that?” A soft, gentle request, and I find that I couldn’t bare it if he did it himself; if I were not allowed to take my time and fight this demon myself. Because last time I had no choice, and even if this is very much my choice, my request, my mind still tries to take me places, and I know that once those shorts come off, that tug will only get stronger and stronger the closer we get to this, no matter how much I want him.

Gently, I reach my hands up to his shoulders and nudge him back onto his knees before me, and I carefully sit up after him, eyes on his for just a moment before I cast them down to the task ahead of me.

Am I ready to face this demon? I have to be, now or never, there’s no place I’d rather slay it than here, this special place we’ve had for ourselves for half a week, where no one can listen in or judge. Just us, joining as one.

Slowly, I reach my hands up to the hem of his black swimwear, and swallowing down the thick lump in my throat—be it psychological or physical—I tug, ever so slowly, terrified of accidentally hurting him as I slowly reveal him to the world, my heart beating like a tribal drum in my ears.

I know I’m staring once I ease it down and beyond, the dark cloth gathered at his knees, his body almost as bare before me as I am before him, but even then, I can’t but behold it, the last piece of him I’ve yet to explore without the confines of fabric to shield him.

I don’t know what comes over me, but I let my hand reach up and gently stroke along it—the thing poking at my curiosity as much as it unravels my fear from its binds—and his sharp shuddering breath startles me enough to make me flinch back.

“I’m sorry! I-” His hands reach down to my shoulders, and he slowly bends down closer to my level.

“It’s okay, you did nothing wrong, Estelle, nothing at all”

“But-”

“You surprised me, that’s all” He runs the back of his hand along my cheek, caresses it softly. “I expected you to be repulsed, not intrigued” I manage to smile, just a little, my burst of uncertainty smoothing out with the help of his reassurances.

“I’m terrified, don’t let me fool you” He cringes ever so slightly, but I I grasp his face so he can’t even think about running away. “But I want you, and nothing that’s you could ever be repulsive to me” Bending down further, he captures my lips with his own, his kiss soft and tender, and sweet like sugar.

I get why he drinks his coffee black, he is sweet enough as it is.

Ever so slowly, his kiss brings me down, pushes me back against the mattress, until his body once again hovers above me, still plenty of room to move, yet his kiss keeps me locked in place, and I continue to tolerate it. Because I don’t want to leave, don’t want to stop, no matter how my mind screams danger in remembrance of one who’s name I’ll never grant him the satisfaction of thinking again if I can help it, never when the cure to his venom is right before me, ready to help me heal, no matter how long it takes him, be it an evening or a hundred, I know he’ll keep being there for me.

Some slight fumbling later, I hear Azriel’s swim-shorts hit the wooden floor, and a stray hand of mine trails down his side, down his powerful thigh, feeling the complete bareness of him all the way to the curve of his knee, goosebumps emerging in my wake, the slightest shudders rippling through his body in response to my subtle touch.

Breaking our kiss, Azriel rests his brow against mine, his breath heavy as he catches himself, his eyes parting slightly to gaze into my own, his pupils so dilated they nearly devour his entire irises, leaving them in darkness, though the sliver of shifting color reminds me it’s him and no one else who has me at his complete mercy.

“We can do this in other ways, I can… You don’t have to be under me” He breathes, his flushed cheeks darkening just a shade, impossible to miss, despite the dim light. I let one of my hands trail the lines of his tattoo along his back, memorized by heart by now.

“I want to be under you” I admit. “I want you to fuck him right out of my head” He sucks in a sharp breath, my bluntness as much of a surprise to him as it is to myself. But it’s nothing but honesty.

“I… I … I assume you don’t take any kind of birth controls” He pushes the words out of himself in a rush. I almost forgot about that. Shit.

“No… I don’t… Do you have _that_ here?” His jaw clenches, and I can tell he’s unsure.

Shit.

Gulping to gather himself, Azriel lifts himself up and reaches for the bedside drawer, fumbling to get it open, equally fumbling as he searches the contents within, chewing on his lip as he searches.

The tight clench to his jaw tells me he’s finding nothing.

_Shit._

But then a twinkle of relief fills his eyes, and he tugs back his hand, not one, but a link of two in his hand, relief and nervousness flooding his face as he separates them and leans back on his knees before me, his fumbling growing more and more annoyed and impatient—despite his calm nature—as he struggles to get it open, the packaging not cooperating.

I take the time to get a little more comfortable, settling my head more centrally on the pillows, just to have something to occupy and distract myself with while the lack of contact paves way for nervous uncertainty induced by whispers of past events.

“Sorry…” He mumbles, finally just about getting himself sorted. “It’s been a while since I had to use one” I assume that means it’s been a while since he did anything of this sort.

“It’s fine” I breathe, casting my eyes down to him, just as he moves to crawl over me again, his nervousness on clear display alongside the lust, and I know my own nerves are showing too, but I make sure to show him I want it too by capturing his approach, letting my hands move along his strong body, a body I can’t help but admire, even if it’s the person within—the heart he harbors—that allows me to be anywhere near him to begin with.

He begins with a trail of kisses down my jaw, lingering just in the hollow bellow my ear as his hand finds my breast and captures it in his palm, coaxing the softest of sound from me as he almost seems to apologize for the disturbance, despite it’s undeniable necessity.

I let it show that I hold no grudge, let my sounds and hands guide him into it again, just as his lips and touch aims to do for me, no matter how deeply in I already am.

All that remains is for him to act now, and I feel him push against me as he slowly lays himself down between my legs, his weight not crushing, but there and restricting, enough so to make me pause, to make me quiver with a burst of fear, and he gives me all the time I need to gather myself again, my hands’ gently guiding him to the soft motions of his hips against mine when I find myself calmed for the time being.

The feel of his body against mine slowly goes from mildly terrifying to undeniably pleasurable as they grind together, and soon enough my soft sounds of approval slip out of me again, straight into Azzy’s poor ear.

He doesn’t complain though.

With just a simple shift to his hips and a lift to his head to face mine, I find him just before my entrance, his eyes sparkling with silent question, asking whether I still want this, still giving me the choice, despite how far we’ve come.

I have no inclinations to stop though, despite the demon whispering in my ear, slipping poison into my blood. Because his love is cure to all the hurt, and I’m ready to embrace its mending touch.

Curling my arms up around his back and clasping his shoulders, I grant him the softest of nods, and the clench to his jaw in answer is clear evidence that he’s just as nervous as I am, if not more so.

His eyes not leaving mine for a second, he slowly nudges forward, and simply the feel of him putting pressure against me is enough to make me gasp. I can’t decide whether the resistance is my body working against me, or we’re not quite aligned as we should, but Azriel’s hand reaches down for my hip and gently coaxes it to buck up just a little, and I accept the silent guidance.

With the new angle, he tries again, and I suck in a sharp breath as I feel him enter—if only a little—and Azriel pauses, lets me adjust to the sensation, but his own heavy breaths hint at restraint. I endlessly admire him for his unrelenting patience with me.

I give a soft squeeze to his shoulders, and he takes it for the approval it is and continues his careful tread, his hips moving back and forth ever so slightly as he descends, each motion sending him deeper and deeper.

I try to focus on breathing, focus on him instead of the memories ripping from their chains, each pang of pain surfacing as he plunges himself deeper, tearing them lose, pains Azriel catches and lets fade before continuing, his eyes studying my face like an open book as he searches for the silent tells, listens for the sharper breaths.

It’s a miracle he even makes grounds, really, because the deeper he goes, the more I feel myself stretch around him, and my unaccustomed body isn’t quite sure how to handle it, torn between tensing up in silent refusal, or loosening and embracing the promise of good simmering in my blood. I want the latter, want it more than I can begin to fathom, yet pure want does not seem to be the judge of this.

A thought enters my mind, takes the spotlight in the mess within, and I heed it, leaning my head to the right, presenting my neck to him like one does a steaming buffet, and Azriel wastes no time taking the bait, his lips slowly trailing along my neck while he moves ever so slowly, the added sensation helping the good take a firmer hold.

Before I really realize it, my pants shift into breathy moans, only amplified by his rougher kiss, the scrape of his teeth along my sensitive skin—burnt or not—and I find myself shifting my legs and hips to better meet his motions. The change is instant.

The burst of burning good that flushes through me washes away the worst of the painful thoughts and vile whispers, the first hints of his healing remedy taking effect, and I make sure he knows it, let a hand reach up into his hair, locking him in place at my neck as a leg of mine curls around his, my mind demanding him closer, demanding more.

I’ve never felt such a need before, not for another, never thought myself worthy of such things, even before Hybern ruined me.

“Azriel- Ah-” His name tumbles out of me, breaks into a moan I don’t bother to try and hinge as he reaches deeper, surely soon at his limit, yet more than enough already.

His answer is what sounds like a long repressed groan vibrating against my throat as he makes another plunge, harder, the motion losing some of it’s gentle softness, yet remains absolutely breathtaking as each dip pushes pleasure into my veins in searing waves.

I just grip his hair tighter, keep my hips solid as he increases in speed, my nails clawing into his back as I take it all, my throat sounding my approval loud and clear as his own does the same, muffled by his lips’ hold of my neck.

I don’t like that, being unable to hear him as well as I could, so despite the feel of his lips remaining marvelous, I give his hair a tug, and his head lifts to face me, his breath a rugged mess, eyes alight with a flaming desire and need that mirrors my own. One of his dark brows raise in silent question, his motions slowing ever so slightly, as if ready to abort this, even now, and it baffles me. Unsure what else to do, I reach up and kiss his neck myself, bury myself in the crook of it and let teeth and tongue show him just how much I want him, his answers are acceleration and sounds so glorious I could practically be glowing right now.

Time blurs, fades, the world becoming nothing but a distant memory as his lips find my jaw and trail down to the hollow below my ear, our bodies tangling in each other further with each passing moment, my legs practically coiled around his, tense and bracing for something, bracing for the burst I feel building within me, hear building in him as well as he chants my name in breathless prayer, reminding myself of it as I remind him of his. My scraping nails are sure to leave marks, but he makes no move to stop me, so I let myself cling to him as that burning end flares closer, my entire being slowly filling with bright warm light.

I don’t hinge myself as it hits, as that burning inferno of pleasure devours my senses and clenches up my body around his, melts my bones and turns my body to mush, the relentless shudders fading into quivering breaths as he keeps going, keeps moving, pace increasing as he allows himself to find his own end with mine met, subsequently milking me of the remnants until I can barely think anything but the word yes; breathe his name.

With a final shove, deep and true, Azriel unravels and groans his release loud and clear for the world to hear, and the feel of him within me, the sensation of him as he comes is distracting and lovely, the gentle thought of being able to satisfy him that passes my mind bringing a bright foolish smile to my lips, even as he falls limp atop me, no part of his weight shielded from me.

I just hold him close, pant along with him as my mind slowly clears into something close to conscious and cognitive, enough so to let words fall from my lips, yet not enough to make me fearful of their impact and power, leaving nothing but raw honesty.

“I love you…” I breathe, the words raspy and hoarse, low and airy, yet clear as day to the ear of his just before my lips as he nuzzles into the crook of my neck.

His breathing ceases for just a second, is released in a heavy heave, and soon his face lifts ever so slightly to find my own ear, his breath hot against my sensitive skin.

“I love you too…” His tone is soft and airy, raspy yet clear. Letting out the softest of sobs, I clutch him tightly to me, my heart refusing to ever let him go, not until the world itself rips us apart.

Until then, he will always be mine to love, and I his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was hard to post mainly because I've never posted anything of the sort, and I wanted it to be as perfect as I could possibly write it. Because every scene I write has a purpose, be it for character development, plot advancing, or relationship building, and this was no exception. I needed that to show through my writing even now, and that took time for me.  
> Either way, I hope it wasn't horrible, and thank you for sticking with this story so far.


	18. Actual Bad news (Just an update chapter)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This sucks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like seriously sucks

Due to my own stupidity for not making safety copies off of my USB with all my work, I have lost all my prewritten progress on this story and much more. For now, this means I'll put the book on pause until I either find the motivation to rewrite everything or the IT company I'm sending it to can fix it or recover data.

I hope all of you who enjoy this story can be patient with me, because I intend to keep writing soon enough, I just need to come to terms with loosing all the things this USB contained, as it was almost six years worth of stuff.

Until next time ♥️

Just because, I can give you guys some songs I think fits the story, or I just listen to while I write. I'll write the names and artists.

"Walk with me" by Måns Zelmelöw and Dotter (I know the letters are weird, just using regular a and o should work too).

"Would anyone care" By Citizen soldier.


	19. Exploration

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took me a while to gain the will to actually write again, but here we are. I think this turned out better than what I lost anyways, so I'm not too butthurt about it.

The sun rises much too soon, the golden light of dawn awakening us both, but neither moving to get out of bed. It’s too comfortable to part with just yet, the arms around me all the same, his hands’ gentle sweeps across my bare body hypnotizing. Personally, I can’t stop trailing the tattoos along his back, or the lines my nails left from the night before, torn between ashamed of the possible pain I’ve caused, and content with the claiming nature of the marks.

He’s mine, and when we leave this cabin, everyone will be able to see that, more so than before. My secretive and private mind is unsure how it feels about that, but I suppose it’s alright, it doesn’t have to mean we did _that_ , just that we did _something_.

I still find it hard to believe, yet I can’t rule out the memories as anything but real. I can’t deny their loveliness either, how right it felt, _still_ feels.

I don’t think it _cured_ me in any way, but it’s a step along the way, a step in the right direction, and from here we can only keep walking, keep moving forward and see where it leads. With last night’s confession, I don’t think it’ll be an issue. Wherever our path leads, I’ll be content with wherever we are as long as he’s there with me. Because together we can do anything, I know we can, last night is evidence of that.

Azriel shifts just a tad, nuzzles his face into the top of my head, breathing me in deeply, and I can’t help but smile, letting my arms wrap a little tighter around him in answer.

I could honestly stay like this forever, but life goes on, and even though I’d love to, staying in bed all day isn’t an option. Saddened by this undeniable fact, but eager to see what other things today might hold, I lean back out of his hold just a tad to look up at him, finding his eyes narrow and lazy as he looks back down at me, the hint of a wordless question in his eyes.

I just smile in response, tug my hand back from around his torso and up to cup his cheek, letting my thumb graze the smooth line of his cheekbone. I’ll never tire of waking up to this face, seeing it at all, really.

His eyes continue to be questioning, but I disregard that as I reach up and capture his lips, my heart fluttering as they begin moving against my own, his hands steadying themselves at my back and holding me close against him, one trailing up into my hair, which is probably a mess at this point.

For a time unbeknownst to either if us, we’re simply lost in one another, relishing every second that passes into minutes, until we part to take some proper breaths of air, foreheads resting against one another.

“Good morning” He murmurs, his morning voice dark and smooth, yet holding just the tiniest rasp that sends pleasant shivers down my spine, or the gentle sweep of his hand down my back caused it, it’s hard to tell.

“Good morning” I answer, nuzzling my nose against his. With my hand still planted against his cheek, I feel his soft smile tug at his lips more so than see it.

“Slept well?” I smile too then, more so than I already was.

“Better than ever” I purr, letting my hand move down, trailing along his neck until it lands flat against his chest. “I hardly want to get out” He hums, surely inclined to agree.

“We _do_ need to get up eventually” He mumbles, rolling his shoulders a little, working the morning tension out of him. “As much as I’d hate to” 

“A few more minutes won’t hurt” I murmur, snuggling into the crook of his neck, and his arms just gobble me up.

“I can’t resist you” He sighs, rolling onto his back and letting me rest more comfortably atop his chest, my ear just above his strong heart, its rhythm as comforting as ever.

Music is my passion, my faithful form of expression that surpasses words and drawings, yet no sheet of music I could ever craft has anything on the symphony that is Azriel. No sequence of notes and cords could ever capture him in his entirety, though I could try.

I’d fail, but I could try.

For now though, I simply wish to cherish the real thing.

“How does a shower sound” Azriel asks eventually, his chest rumbling with the sound of his voice, adding to the soothing symphony.

“Refreshing, but not as nice as this” I let a finger trace a dark swirl along his chest, unable to help myself. Maybe I should get tattoos too, but just getting some wouldn’t mean anything, not as his do. I wonder if Seraphim culture has any special tattoos, it’s quite likely.

“We could take one together” My tracing ceases, and I’m left blinking for a moment.

“That’s… A valid option…” His hand brushes through my hair, carefully undoing a couple pale tangles.

“Would you be comfortable with that?” I shift my head to look up at him, catching his gentle gaze, nothing but calm patience and warm love within them, the latter a sight that still knocks the air out of my lungs when I see it; register it.

“I… I don’t think I’d hate it” He smiles, a soft up-tilt to his lips that makes his eyes twinkle. Then he moves, nudges me fully atop him, and soon enough I’m sat in his lap, my faintly hurting legs straddling either side of him, his hands comfortably at my hips.

“I don’t think you’ll hate it either” I smile, let my arms settle over his shoulders.

His hands move down, cupping my behind as he shifts to let his legs settle on the floor, his grip of me firm and secure as he stands, my legs curling around his waist in response as I let out a soft yelp of surprise, arms wrapping a little tighter around him as I hold on to his solid frame. Azriel just laughs, the sound low and dark and wholly amused by my reaction, then he makes way for the bathroom, neither of us caring about the lack of clothing on us right now.

After carefully locking the door behind him, Azriel eases me down to my feet again, and I cringe slightly as my entire weight shifts to be supported by my legs. Azriel notices, reaching down to give my outer thigh the gentlest of massages, his eyes relaying all the apology he needs to give, yet his mouth moves to speak either way.

“I’m sorry… I tried to…” He seems to struggle to find the right words, his cheeks darkening just a fraction. I smile, reaching up to cup his warm dusted cheek, my own growing hotter too, something a lot more noticeable, I’m sure.

“It’s alright, this was unavoidable” Something to be expected after so long, yet his face still tries to shift away from my gaze in what appears to be shame. I don’t let him hide away though, nudging his face my way again. “You did everything right last night” I reach up my other hand as well, cupping his other cheek. “Every single thing” He smiles, a smile I’ll never tire of, then he bends down to my height and captures his lips with mine, the hands at my hips pulling me in against him, and I take it in with all that I am, savor every second it lasts before he pulls back again, his eyes lingering on mine for a moment before they shift to the shower waiting behind me.

I get the silent hint and let my hands fall from his cheeks, grasping his hands at my hips and moving to turn its way, my steps a little stiff initially, but loosening up as I near those black familiar drapes. Azriel silently complies, and soon enough we’re tucked away in that cramped though lovely shower,  my body leaned against his chest where he leans against the wall, the  hot  water spraying us from above.

“What… What made up your mind last night?” He asks softly as we bask in the steam and warmth.

“It’s… Hard to explain” His hand reaches up and nudges my face upwards, his head tilted slightly to the side as his eyes study my face. “I just…” I swallow. “I wanted to be yours, in all the ways possible” His hand settles along my jaw, thumb brushing along the edge of my mouth. “And here…” I let my eyes trail along the walls. “This cabin… Secluded from everything else, from everyone else…”I settle on him again. “It felt _right_ here, like I could face my fears without the fear of judgment here, no one here to listen in, or accidentally hear us… It… It might not be a common occurrence once we leave this place… I’m sorry…” I sigh, try to lower my gaze, but Azriel quickly nudges me up his way again.

“I love you, Estelle” The words makes my breathing stutter, my heart flutter. “I loved you months ago, and I’ll love you months from now, years even” I feel my eyes water, my lips quivering. “I’ve told you this before, but I’ll say it again. I don’t _need_ it, I just need you” I open my mouth to speak, but nothing seems able to pass my lips, my throat closed with the overwhelming emotion coursing through me.

Without much else of an option, I reach my right hand up and do the next best thing.

_I love you._ I can’t bare to sign more, but I know the message is conveyed and more than enough to the man before me, his smile brighter than the morning sun, a  brightness which reflects in his eyes, sparkling like stars.

  
  


Õ

  
  


Soon enough, we get on with our shower, let the other help wash the other, taking our time with every touch as we work our way towards cleanliness,  savoring the feel of the other . I avoid one part of him though, not out of any repulsion, but because I’m generally embarrassed about my curiosity. Azriel remains modest in his touches as well, modest enough at least, and I have no clue how to even begin to explore the curiosity in me without him taking the first steps, guiding me along  and showing what’s okay.

Just going for it feels inappropriate and wrong, and I don’t want to startle him as I did the night before.  A predicament indeed.

My predicament must have been written on my face, for as I lift my gaze, my lathery hands reaching up over his shoulders, I catch the questioning look on his face, the slight tilt to his head giving it away, along with the faint narrowing to his eyes as he studies my face. I smile, look to the side, then reach for the faucet to turn on the shower head again, our bodies well past clean by now, and the lack of water making things grow a little cold.

Leaning my head back, I let the water rinse away all the foam from both my body and hair, and I hardly react as Azriel takes a step towards me to get himself a larger portion of the water.

“What’s on your mind?” He asks softly, his words surprisingly close to my ear, and as I angle myself to look at him without getting my eyes soaked, I find him bent right before my ear, his hands just about settling at my hips.

“It’s… Nothing…” His lips brush the skin just below my ear.

“It doesn’t look like nothing” I gulp, unsure how to tread this new ground with him, this new intimacy. In all honesty, I’m practically a clueless virgin when it comes to this kind of thing, I was one yesterday, and I am one now. I’m not _actually_ one, but that’s beside the point.

“It’s… Nothing I’m used to thinking about” He hums as he plants a series of kisses along my jaw. My eyes flutter closed in response, neck craning to give him better access.

“You can tell me anything” He moves his way down towards my ear again. “Anything that crosses your mind, question, opinion, suggestion, whatever it happens to be” I smile softly, would smile a little wider if I wasn’t so nervous about voicing what happens to be on my mind right now.

“I… I want to touch you” He pauses his soft trail of kisses just bellow my ear.

“I’m yours, all of me” I can’t help but glance down, be it just a quick flick and the view restricted. “What’s stopping you?” I take a deep breath.

“Inexperience” I manage to breathe “I don’t know what to do” He hums, a hum which seems contemplative. Then his left hand lets go of my waist and gently reaches up to grasp my right wrist, his head lifting just enough to face me. I try and fail to hide my nerves as he brings my hand down, letting it pause at his hip as his eyes study my own.

“I could help you” Again, my traitorous eyes glance down, and this time he sees it clear as day. “Guide you” His hand softly nudges mine to move inwards, and what feels like autopilot beckons me to accept the nudge.

I watch Azzy’s throat bob as my fingers grace him, his jaw clenching just a tab, and as I let them run along him, his eyes close with a sigh. He moves, and I jolt back like a startled animal, but Azriel brushes his thumb along my wrist, his other hand running comforting lines along my side, and I manage to brush off my embarrassing nervousness.

Using the little courage I have, the little confidence I harbor, I grasp him,  my eyes set on his face as I brush my thumb along him, watching for any possibly negative reactions. I find none, so I dare go a little further, running my hand up him slowly, and his brows crinkle ever so slightly, in that distinctly good way I recall from the night before.

So I do it again, slowly, daring a glance down to see what I’m doing once I’ve assured myself that he’s enjoying it, his breathing picking up pace ever so slightly, and it feels strange to watch myself do this. Not in a bad way, just different.

“Is this… Right?” I ask when he guides me with him as he moves to lean himself against the wall.

“Yes” He breathes, the deep smoothness of his voice alone doing something to me.

“You… Show me how you want it” His eyes part slightly. “Guide me” Casting a lingering glance down, he soon tightens his grip on my wrist a tad and guides me into a faster pace. I just embrace it, a part of me thrilled to be able to please him, in whatever way it happens to be.

The thrill only grows as his breathing deepens into soft groans, his head falling back against the white tile wall.  Fascination accompanies the thrill as he seems to only grow harder in my hand, a function I understand, but wasn’t quite aware just how it worked. 

“You… Shouldn’t be standing there” He breathes after some time, and my red cheeks flush a deeper shade as I realize what he’s implying.

“Where should I…” His eyes part, nearly consumed by the void of his pupils. Apparently lacking words, Azriel simply uses his hand at my hip to tug me to his side instead, and from there, I continue to give exactly what he wants, my lips coming out to play along his throat as well for good measure.

He seems to enjoy it, even more so than he already was.

“Estelle…” I can’t get over how he says my name, I just can’t.

“That’s me” I murmur against his neck. “Am I doing good?” Casting a glance up, I watch him nod, his mouth slightly parted as he pants.

“Yes…” It’s barely a word. “ _Yes_ ” It’s hard not to smile, hard to not feel smug about how utterly unraveled he’s becoming by my mere touch.

I suppose this is more than just a touch, but still.

Just for the sake of it, to see what happens, I tighten my grip a tad, and his hand at my waist tightens in answer. Something I also realize is that he’s barely moving me along anymore, simply guiding me through the motions. I focus on his neck though, focus on adding to the red marks already faintly visible past his tanned skin, and I continue to do it all until I feel him unravel before me, his low groan like pure music to my ears, better even.

I stop moving once his hand gently nudges me away, his breathing heavy and eyes hooded as he looks down at me.

“We should get out” He breathes after a while, and honestly, I agree, the water taking its toll on my skin. His eyes close for a moment, and he takes a deep breath. “Sort yourself out first, I’ll be out in a moment” I nod, sure he has his reasons, reaching up to give him one last peck on the cheek before moving past the dark drape. Grabbing a towel, I wrap myself into it, then go on to using another to somewhat dry my hair.

Then my eyes catch on the mirror, and I pause, any contentment from what just occurred draining away.

I never applied any cream last night, I completely forgot. I give my shoulder a gentle roll, and while it doesn’t hurt, less so due to the water loosening up the skin, I know it’ll get stiffer than preferable once the water dries.

Repulsed by the thought of it, of seeing it, yet fully aware that I’d rather not be in pain, I reach into the cupboard and retrieve my tin, unscrewing the lid and bracing myself as I move to apply it, blocking out the unpleasant emotions as best as I can to simply get the objective done.

Azriel steps out then, reaching for a towel while his eyes remain on me, his ever observant gaze able to see right past the forcefully cold look in my eyes, the pain it tries to suppress and hide. He quickly ties the towel around his hips, then moves to stand behind me, wrapping me into a backwards hug. I let it happen, even if a small traitorous part of my brain recoils at being touched while I’m doing this, being vulnerable like this with another close by. It is an impulse I restrain, the good  and comfort  of his presence that slithers past my walls outweighing  the annoying tugs of dread  ingrained into my psyche that I can never truly block, however hard I try .

I wonder if it’ll ever go away, or if it’ll always be a battle for dominance in my head. I hope not, but at the same time doubt I’ll be that lucky. I’ll always have to remind myself that I trust Azriel, remind the part of my brain that trusts no one that Azriel is safe to trust, and even if that’s fairly easy for me to do at this point, I’m sure I’ll have good and bad days.

I’ve juggled the idea of therapy for a while, ever since I started studying Psychology and found some of the mental issues discussed there to have a home in my own mind,  but it’s expensive, and I don’t have that kind of money right now. I’m doing alright as well, all things considered, so unless I take a sudden dive into the dark, I won’t get in contact with anyone yet.

I doubt I’d be able to confine in some random stranger like that anyways, and Psychology class is helping me understand my own issues well enough right now, so I’ll be my own therapist until I can’t anymore.

Done with this wretched task, I wash the residue off of my hands and lean back against Azriel’s solid frame, letting my eyes fall closed to free myself of the sight of myself, even if it lingers behind my eyelids. He just holds me close, not saying a thing, his silence as welcome as any words of condolence.

Only the gentle growl of my stomach breaks the comfortable silence.  My hand instinctively reaches down to my stomach in response, and I watch Azriel’s eyes twitch as he picks up the motion through the mirror.

“Hungry?” I nod gently. “We should head back to the house” I nod again.

“Yeah, we should” Even if I’d much rather stay cooped up with him here for the rest of this vacation.


	20. Puzzle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe I've hit a thousand hits on this thing, it's a number beyond what I ever imagined when I started posting this, and I'd just like to thank everyone who's given my story a shot.   
> I promise that I'll continue to post chapters as frequently as my schedule allows, especially now when finals are blowing over.  
> Stay safe over the holidays.

The vacancy of the main beach is surprising. Both Azriel and I expected to find the gang up and about at this hour, but it becomes apparent that they're off somewhere else when we enter the house and find it empty as well. 

Say for Amren, who's sat in the living room with an array of strange puzzles before her, currently working on one in the shape of a jewelry box. I assume that she's trying to figure out a way to open it. Azriel doesn’t bother her, just urges me along to the kitchen, and the two of us throw together a breakfast of toast and butter and cheese to sort out my grumbling stomach.

It’s pleasantly calm, Azriel and I fully content to just bask in it, though the calm is occasionally disturbed by Amren’s foul words as she curses the puzzle for not doing what she wants it to. It’s actually a struggle not to laugh at her vexing,  and I find myself nearly choking on my milk as a particularly foul string of words escape little Amren’s mouth.

Azriel gives me a warning look as I silently try to cough it up, my lips curled into a repressed grin. His fear of that small woman is almost as amusing as the woman in question. I manage to safely clear my throat and get on with eating my toast,  and the irritated woman in the other room seems to calm significantly. I assume she figured out a step of her puzzle.

_What do you want to do today?_ Azriel signs,  and I take a moment to think about it.

It’s pretty windy today, and colder, so a day at the beach isn’t particularly appealing. Atop of that, my legs feel… Less than ideal, so maybe…

_Would staying inside all day be a waste of time?_ He shakes his head.

_No if that’s what you want._ I look down, get a few more bites of my sandwich, then answer.

_It just want to relax, really._ He nods

_Same, honestly._ We’ve been active almost this entire vacation, I’d say we deserve a day without long walks and adventurous exploration. The question of where the rest of our circle is still stands unanswered though.

Azriel seems reluctant as we head for the living room to watch some TV, even if the fire-drake in its vicinity has calmed down significantly. We get to the couch, settle down, watch the TV on mute to not risk enraging Amren, and all is fine, calm. Azzy’s eyes seem to linger on something atop the table though, and I cast him a questioning look.

_What is it?_ I sign, and he seems to hesitate before answering.

_I’m contemplating the pros and cons of disturbing her to ask for a puzzle._ I look to said puzzles _._

_Which one?_ I look his way to see his answer.

_The Rubik’s cube._ I frown softly.  _The colorful one._ I look back at the table and find the one he speaks off.

“Amren” I begin calmly, and I feel Azriel’s arm resting over my shoulders tense, watch Amren stop what she’s doing and angle her head back our way just a tad. “Could I borrow the Rubik’s cube?” She looks back at the table, at the cube in question.

“ The little Owl has significantly bigger balls than you, Azriel ” She sets aside her puzzle and reaches for the cube.

“ I was going to ask for myself” He mutters in response as the cube is tossed our way and expertly caught by Azzy.

“Of course you were, maybe half an hour from now” She says deadpanned as she returns to her puzzle. Azriel huffs at her words. “ Where were you this morning” Her tone leaves no room for slithering around the subject.

“We spent the night in the cabin instead” Azriel admits.

“ Good call. Talk all you want, I’ll leave if I get annoyed”  She mutters before getting into it again, and Azriel uncurls his arm from over my shoulders to fully hold the cube, giving it a look. 

Then he starts jumbling it, only to give it another thorough look before seemingly jumbling it again. But as I watch him I realize he’s putting the colors back in their place. I don’t understand how, but he’s doing it.  I just watch in awe as he turns the cube from a jumbled mess to the solid sides it had before, and he chuckles as he sees the look on my face, then jumbles it all over again and puts it in my clueless hands.

“ Try it” I gawk at him.

“I have no idea how this works” He smiles.

“Just try it, start with the white side” I look down at the cube and figure I can give it a go.  I mess about with it, figure out the twists and turns of this three by three cube, until finally, I have a complete white side. Just took, say, twenty minutes, give or take.

“Is this right?” I look up at Azriel, but he looks politely skeptical.

“It’s… Not quite” He takes the hand that holds the cube and turns an unfinished side of the cube up for me to see. “The ones here need to match the color in the middle” He lets his finger point to the sections in question. I understand what he means then.

“This isn’t even close to right” I state, and Azriel chuckles.

“You’re getting there, make the colors match and I’ll help you form there” I nod and get to work.

It doesn’t feel like it should be that difficult, yet as I try to move the colorful cubes into their rightful places, I continuously end up ruining those I’ve already put in the right places. It’s mildly infuriating, but I keep my cool and keep on trucking, soon enough figuring out that in order to fix it, you gotta break it, and from there things start to run more smoothly. Azriel remains ever patient beside me, seeming content to just watch me work through the puzzle. Whether he finds my repeated failure amusing or just enjoys watching me use my head is a question I can’t answer, nor do I care to.

“ Okay, there, what now?”

“This is where things get a little more complicated” He sits himself a little more comfortably beside me, angled towards me. “You need to move these here to the right place here” I follow where his finger points, and figure that it makes sense. “To do that you need to do a sequence of turns, and it’s always the same, just mirrored sometimes depending on the situation” I frown, but think I follow. “Here, let me show you the first time” He takes the cube, and I watch as carefully as I can as he does the sequence of turns. I don’t understand how, but the cube he wanted moved got moved, and nothing got broken.

“You’re a wizard” Azriel laughs.

“Let’s see you do it” I carefully take the cube from his hands and try to work out how to do this. I figure out which cube I want to move, but the sequence has completely left my head.

“Tell me the sequence  again ”  And he does, and by repeating it aloud as I go I slowly manage to work my way through it, with some help from Azriel whenever I’m about to do something wrong. “Do I do that to all of them?”

“Yes, but mirrored depending on which way you want the cube to go” I nod slowly. “I’ll tell you if that happens” Assured, I get to memorizing the turns by just doing them, not caring about the placement of cubes, and when I feel I have it down a little better, I move on to actually putting things in the right places.

It’s a slow, painful process of memorization, and by the time I’ve gotten the middle done, my brain hurts, but I insist that Azriel continues to teach me, and he slowly works me through the more complicated rhythms, the clock ticking by as I push on wit h determined focus.

But the circle returns in a ruckus of noise, and maintaining focus, which isn’t impossible, just proves too much of a pain, so I set the cube aside for later.

“Where the hell have  _you_ been?” Cassian asks, noticing us in the living room as they fill up the hallway.

“Places, where were you?” Azriel answers for us  both, and Mor pushes past Cassian to get into the room.

“We went to the other beach, hoped there'd be calmer winds there, you should have joined! It was great!”

“We just wanted to relax today” I say calmly, and it seems to naturally cause Mor to step down a notch.

“Yeah, fair” She concludes, then looks to Amren’s messy display of puzzles. “Have you had fun all by yourself?”

“A blast” Amren says coldly, but Mor is completely unaffected by the uninviting tone.

“Get yourselves a snack for lunch, I’m firing up the  pit tonight, it’ll be a feast!” Cassian calls, presumably form the kitchen based on the distance.

“Sounds great Cass!” Feyre calls from another part of the house.

“Will there be halloumi?” Elain asks softly somewhere as well.

“Of course!” I lean in closer to Azriel.

“What’s halloumi?” I whisper, and he leans in closer to my ear to whisper back.

“It’s a cheese, you should try it”  And I figure it doesn’t hurt to keep trying new things, be it food or activities.

  
  


Õ

  
  


It’s a feast alright. As the evening closes in and the sky dims into dusk, we all sit by the fire-pit down by the waters, Cassian handing out and maintaining the food cooking on the iron bars. The fire is not as appreciated by me as it is by the rest of the gang though, so Azriel and I sit a little further off, on a blanket in the grass, eating our skewers, grilled cheese and vegetables together, keeping up with conversation now and again, but mainly just enjoying the view and the food.

I realize that we’re leaving in two days, that tomorrow will be some general tidying before the true packing on Saturday, and eventual return home. I don’t particularly look forward to going back home, to the work I’ll be doing eight hours a day, five days a week, but at least I’ll get the weekends off to do what I want.

At least I’ll have him to brighten up my days now.

At some point, alcohol is thrown into the mix, and a flask of cider finds its way into my possession, a twin of it in Azriel’s. While Azriel and I keep it minimal, our dear friends grow ever rowdier by that fire, laughing and roasting one another as they drink more and more to muddle their senses. Even Amren seems to be enjoying herself with the bottle of wine she keeps at her feet and guards fiercely.

The alcohol enhances my sleepiness though, and with my senses relaxed and calmed, I don’t shy away from snuggling up into Azriel’s arms, cradled in his lap and snuggled into the crook of his neck.  He just holds me, takes my drink from my hands and lets me doze off all I want in his warm embrace.

I only come to once, find myself in the confines of our dorm in the main house, and I groggily help Azriel get me out of my sundress for the night before he settles us down in bed again and I quickly drift off.


	21. Sunset

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All that is good must come to an end.

A slight headache greets me as the sun awakens me from sleep, shining in through our window, despite the drawn curtains. I didn’t drink much last night, but general dehydration might be amplifying the effect of the hangover, as this room is terribly hot already, and an unconformable amount of sweat coats my body because of it. The con of sleeping next to another in the summer, I suppose, and the small room and eastern setting of it really cramps the warmth of the morning sun into the air. It’s almost suffocating.

The cabin never had this issue, though I suppose its western setting made sure it kept cool until about noon, when the  true direct  rays of the sun fully peaked over the mountain and down to the beach. 

Azriel seems alright before me, sound asleep where he lays beside me, arm curled under my neck and hand tangled into my hair. The last thing I want is to disturb that calm, but it’s too warm in here even for me, which means it’s bad.

Gently, I reach up and brush a kiss to his cheek, the tang of salt making it clear that he too suffers from the heat, and before long, his breathing deepens and his body stirs, a hand reaching up to rub at his brow. 

“Shit it’s hot…” He sighs, his hand falling to his chest, and his head angling to look down at me, eyes only partly open still.

“Yeah…” I breathe, and the hand the keeps in my hair brushes through it gently, smooths it out. Then that arm reaches out for the nightstand, curls around my body so he can have a look at his phone, and a glance at the lock-screen reveals the clock to be approaching twelve.

Explains why it’s so warm.

“How does a dip in the sea sound?” He asks, setting his phone back down on the desk.

“Cooling, I approve” He smiles faintly and moves to get up, and so do I. We put on our swimwear, head down to the kitchen for a quick sandwich and drink each, then head down to the beach with a towel each under our arm. Elain is down there, basking in the sun as she builds a rather extensive sandcastle, content as ever to just enjoy the calm. She smiles as we approach, looks radiant in the sunlight, her hair like honey in the bun atop her head.

“Good morning” She greets.

“Good morning Elain” Azriel answers, and I smile to convey the same. “Are everyone else still in their rooms?” He asks, and she nods, looking back down at her creation as she uses a small spoon to carve out doors and such.

“They had a lot to drink last night” She says, and it makes a whole lot of sense. “What are your plans today?” She asks as she looks up again, her head tilted slightly to the left.

“To escape the heat” I answer this time, and Elain smiles wider.

“Yeah, it’s bad today, isn’t it” She looks down at her castle. “The sand is drying faster than I can manage right now” She sighs.

“It still looks lovely” Azriel assures her, a different sort of softness to his tone as he speaks to her than he has with the rest of the circle. Though I suppose everyone get soft when they’re in the presence of sweet Elain, who’s thorns I have yet to witness, though am sure Lucien knows of by now, as close as they are.

“I’m trying… Hey, if you find any spiral shells, could you bring them here? I want to add spikes to my walls” I note she’s begun, but lacks the right amount as of now.

“Of course” I assure her, and she simply beams.

“Thank you” We bid her goodbye for now and head for the shallower beach towards the cliff we climbed days before, and while we start off just basking in the cold waters together atop a submerged smooth cliff, it soon becomes swimming practice, and I don’t mind at all, especially as Azriel shifts the lesson from ‘swim to me’ to ‘swim away from me’. He is infinitely faster than me, but the fun of splashing him in an attempt to get him off my tail whenever he closes in makes up for his unfair advantage. He doesn’t fully appreciate the sprays of saltwater I make him inhale, but he doesn’t sway from the lighthearted nature of it and laughs along with me as I flip him off and swim away from his coughing shape.

This goes on a while, until eventually my body doesn’t have the energy to fight anymore, and I fall prey to his steely embrace as he lifts me up around the waist and spins us around. I laugh, so openly and freely. To think that I hardly recalled what it felt like mere months ago is surreal. The fact that a single person walking into your life at just the right moment can have such a drastic change on you as a person is a fact I find hard to wrap my head around. The whole circle has played a part, but Azriel was the start, the true beginning of my healing.

Because he made me  _want_ to get better, he still does.

Azriel lets me down, yet keeps his hold of me, and with my back against his chest, I snuggle up into the crook of his neck, as close to it as I can reach. He meets me half way, resting his chin atop my head.

I feel safe like this, in his embrace, feel like his arms cocoon me and shield me from all which could harm me, guards me from all which haunts me. I hope, with all that I am, that he feels some semblance of safety around me as I do with him, and while I can tell that he feels more secure with himself—his gloves off every night I’m with him now—I want to be able to grant him some kind of safety in the physical sense.

I’m nowhere near as strong as I once was, even with my decently frequent gym visits with the circle, and I cannot confidently say that I can protect Azriel, should he be unable to protect himself. I don’t like that, at all.

“I’m so proud of you” Azriel murmurs in my ear, and I gulp, those words so foreign, alien to me.

“It’s just swimming…” I mumble, unsure how else to respond to that.

“You sunk like a rock when we first got here” I laugh softly, even if the memory is terrifying and sends chills through my body. Azriel’s grip around me seems to tighten in response, as if he felt the dread rush through me.

“I’m not ready for deep waters yet” I admit, even if I'm confident enough to keep afloat a while, the thought of not being able to put my feet down scares me.

“And that’s fine… You could always cling to me if you need a breather though…” Soft, mildly suggestive words that bring a shy smile to my lips, and a faint blush. Here, mildly secluded from the main beach by the docks—currently out of view from any circle-members—sure, I could cling to him, but the thought of open affection around people, even our friends, is a little iffy for me, and I know Azriel feels the same to a degree, our need for privacy shared.

“Yeah… I could…” My uncertainty is clearer in my tone than I’d like, but all Azriel does is lean down and kiss my cheek.

“You can hold me whenever and wherever, in whatever way you feel you need” He murmurs just by my ear. I shift my head to face him, reach my hand up to cup his face.

“As can you” I assure him. Even if public displays of affection unnerve me, I won’t let that hinder us in any way, I can’t. I press a soft kiss to his lips, find that they taste of sea-salt, but don’t mind at all. “I’m yours” I breathe as I part from it, gazing up into his hazel eyes speckled with more color than I can properly name and do justice.

His lips spread into a smile, a smile that reaches his eyes and makes them sparkle in the sunlight, and he claims my lips again, still as softly and gently as my own.

“And I am yours, Angel” 

  
  


Õ

  
  


Time passes much too fast, and after a lengthy session of cleaning in the afternoon—which borderlines the definition of madness as all nine of us try to get everything sorted before we leave the next day—the last night here us upon us.  We all manage to catch the sunset, gathered on the western beach together in a rare moment of peace as we watch the last rays of the sun paint the sky in vibrant reds and oranges.

I try to get a picture, but find that my crappy old phone doesn’t do it justice. Luckily, Azriel snaps a couple noteworthy pictures, so one of us has this memorialized.

The hushed conversations between my friends do not quite register as I watch the visual end of this amazing adventure, my mind off replaying it all in my head, memorizing every moment. To think that I could have not been here had some of my choices been different a few months back is crazy to me. 

I could have been dead, forgotten by all, but instead I’m here, surrounded by people who show genuine care for me, no matter how little I feel I deserve it at times. I’m here with someone who sees every single flaw on my body, inside my soul, and still wants me.

My eyes trail to him, seated beside me on the cliff, his black hair shimmering with deep golds and coppers in the dying light of dusk, his eyes a bright amber and gold, flaked with leaves of royal green, his skin a rich  olive after days spent in the sun .

I never thought I’d be blessed with someone like him, someone who loves me without expectations, who wants me for me, and not what I can give. I didn’t think I deserved it. A part of my mind still doesn’t, but I know self deprecation like that can ruin relationships, so I will do all in my power to make sure I deserve it, that I’m worthy of his love.

He notices my gaze, shifts his eyes away from the sunset, his dark brow raising ever faintly in silent question, and all I can do is smile. Before I can let my public intimacy problems get the better of me in this sober state, I let my head rest against his shoulder and my eyes return to the distant horizon.

I soon find his arm coiled around my waist, his chin comfortably resting atop my head, and a sense of utter peace within me. 

One by one, the circle decides to call it a night, and we bid each other goodnight as we dwindle in numbers. Rhys and Feyre are the last to leave before us, and we bid them goodnight through smiles alone, and the two of them head off in the completely wrong direction of the house. I assume they’re taking one last walk before we leave this place. I’m tempted to do the same, but this is much too nice.

A thought crosses my mind while we watch the sky darken into a deeper and deeper blue ever so slowly.

“It’s your birthday soon” I state softly, and he lets out a soft hum.

“About a month from now” A brief moment of calm silence. “They’ll all insist on a party, you’re invited”

“I’d better be” He chuckles softly.

“I’ll text you the specifics when I know” He gives my brow a gentle kiss.

“Anything in particular you’d want for your birthday? Need?” He shakes his head.

“Not really, not from you, you give me more than I’ll ever need by simply existing” I smile, feel my cheeks heat into a soft blush. He’s quite the charmer when he wants to be, isn’t he.

“I’ll get you something, you can't escape it” He sighs.

“Just don’t ruin yourself for me…” I let my hand land on his leg in a gentle touch, just above his knee.

“I won’t look at the prize-tag first when it comes to you, Azriel. If I find something that I feel you’d like, I’ll buy it no matter the prize” His arm tightens around me, pulls me in closer. “You spend so much on me, I won’t shy away from spoiling you as well”

“But I’m well off… I can afford it”

“So can I, I’ll make sure I can, somehow. You underestimate my skills in economics” He laughs softly, as do I. “I’m actually not the _best_ , but I get by” Again, he blesses me with a kiss, and it makes me feel all warm and good inside, happy.

“Just… Be realistic about it, if you’re getting me a gift, don’t be rash” I nod, prepared to make that small compromise. I’ll give myself a second to think before I press buy, a fair bargain. “So, the concert” He begins, and my eyes widen. Not that I’ve forgotten, but this moment has just completely cleared my head of most things, say for soft random thoughts that brush my mind now and again, often regarding Azriel and how he is much too kind to me.

“Yeah, I read up on the details you sent me a while back. It was in august, right?” He shifts a little in his seat.

“Yeah, the last weekend before school starts again, so it’s a little ways off” I hope the longing to go doesn’t make me disregard the other fun things I can do this summer. At least I have something to look forward to. “It’s quite fancy of an event, so your black dress would probably be an ideal choice” I nod, agreeing fully.

“Will you wear a suit?” He snorts.

“Not a full tux, but maybe tuxedo pants and a nicer shirt, we’ll see” Imagining Azriel—who always dresses nice in his own right, though rather casually—wearing a fancy expensive tuxedo is quite interesting to say the least.

“It’ll go on quite late, won’t it?” He nods.

“I’m considering booking a hotel, there’s one in walking distance of the concert house, but I haven’t committed yet, I wanted to ask you first” 

“A hotel sounds expensive” I mumble, not too keen on having him spend _more_ money on me.

“A night isn’t that bad” I sigh.

“Alright, sure” His head lifts from mine, and I shift mine to look up at him, finding his eyes on me.

“Do you want to head back?” I cast the sky a glance, find that the earliest stars are beginning to glitter to life.

“It’s nice here” I admit, and it is, the air still warm, pleasantly so. “But I guess we should be rested tomorrow” Azriel nods, and his eyes glance down to the cabin at the beach.

“We could stay there tonight, if you want” A tempting thought.

“We could… But I think we should be back with the others, be present in the morning along with them, if we stay there we’ll probably cuddle the morning away” I smile at the thought, terribly tempted.

“You’re probably right” He sighs, then his arm uncurls form around me, and he stands, reaching his hand out to me to help me do the same.

I hold on to that hand all the way back to the house, clutch it tightly yet comfortably as we walk the trail back, my eyes taking in the scenery, my ears listening to the calm of nature. A home in the forest, close to nature, wouldn’t be terrible. It would be calming, I think. In practice it might not be possible due to work and travel, but maybe a summer home like this one, but just ours, our own little getaway, like the cabin here has been.

I’m way ahead of myself, but dreaming is okay, having something to look forward to is alright.

We get back to the house, silently slip into our room and settle down for the night, the room significantly cooler now than it was this morning.  Azriel’s warmth is all I need to keep comfortable though. He is all I need.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm finally rediscovering my plans for this story and where I want it to go, so from here updates will probably be fairly frequent, though more so after Christmas. Either way, I hope you enjoy!


	22. Family

Boarding the taxi-boat  isn’t quite as scary as it was a week ago, but even with the ability to somewhat swim in my arsenal, I keep close to Azriel for safety. It hurts to watch that island grow smaller and smaller on the horizon, but the thought of the fun this summer can still hold is encouraging, so I cling to that instead.

Once we reach the pier, we all have lunch at one of the local food-stands, spending a last couple moments together until our rides home arrive. 

Ramona insists to drive me home as well, even though I insist that the bus is fine, and before long, three large boys and two smaller women cram themselves into the car, the back stuffed with our luggage. I’m personally stuffed between Azriel and Cassian, and while Cassian is the physical manifestation of man-spreading by nature, my smaller build makes me decently comfortable, even if my shoulder gets pressed into Azriel’s.

Once Ramona pulls up at my place, Azriel gets out and helps me get my luggage out without toppling over the rest of it all, and before long, we’re met with the fact that we’ll be parting ways for the time being.

“I could come over tonight, once I’ve sorted out my things” He offers, and it does feel quite appealing.

“Or I head over to yours, your mother wanted a look at my swimwear after all, we could get that done” He glances back at the car.

“Yeah, that works too. I’ll pick you up later this afternoon? Five?” I nod, the time-frame allowing me more than enough time to sort out my things and clean and all that.

“Sounds great… I’ll see you soon” I take his hand, wishing to hug him, but the audience in the car unnerving. He gives it a squeeze and smiles ever faintly.

“See you soon” And with that, I let him go, let him get back in the car and head home while I return up to my apartment alone.

It feels strange to enter it and find nothing but silence, not that Azriel and I constantly fill the silence when we hang out, but this silence is different from that comfortable calm. This is empty, cold, uninviting. I shove past that and head for my room to sort out what clothes need the wash and which I’ve hardly used.

My chores occupy me, distract me form the strange sense of loneliness creeping around the edges of my mind, and the hours tick by as I tidy up my home and wash all the shells I brought from the island, setting the large spiral one Azriel gave me along with the nacre laid in a regular white shell atop my dresser as decoration.

By the time the clock nears five, I’ve got my things for the night packed, and a possible second night should Azriel wish to keep me ‘til Monday, which I wouldn't be opposed to. I’m set to go, simply waiting for a text from him, but right now he remains uncharacteristically quiet about his whereabouts.

It sends me pacing, glancing out the window towards the street, worried something might have happened to him, but trying to convince myself that he might just have forgotten his phone, or doesn’t have battery. It does little to soothe my heart, and while my fingers ache to send a message his way, I know that it could distract him while he drives, and could cause an accident all on it’s own, so I don’t risk it.

When knocks sound at my door, my legs carry me there faster than a mere walk, and when I find him stood past that door, helmet under his arm, a soft smile on his lips, I can’t help myself as my arms reach up around his neck and brings him down to my level, locking his lips against mine.

It stuns him for a moment, but soon enough, his free arm coils around me and he guides me inside with small careful steps, only letting go of me to close the door behind us, all while he kisses me right back.  He looks dazed once I pull back, mildly confused, but not a sliver of complaint to be found either. I keep my arms around his neck, even if it bends his back in a rather awkward angle, one I try to soothe by standing on my toes.

“What did I do to deserve that lovely greeting?” He asks, his voice breathy, his lips spread in a smile. My lips aren’t as cheery, which he takes note of, and that smile shifts into a gentle questioning frown.

“You had me worried… You never texted, I didn’t know…” I find it hard to put my concerns into words, but he seems to get it, his face twisting with apology.

“I had my phone linked to my computer, uploading some pictures, it passed my mind, I’m sorry” I look down, nod, taking some deep breaths to calm the worry within me.

He’s alright, he’s right here with me.

I close my eyes, let my hands slowly slide down to his shoulders and my head lean against his chest with a sigh. Azriel’s arms hold me tight, his face burying into the top of my head. I breathe him in, scent the of cedar and mist, feel the beat of his heart within, let it calm me down, assure me that all is well.

Only then do I lean back in his embrace, let my hands reach up along his jaw, let my thumbs brush along the faint stubble that’s grown out this past week, until they settle at his cheeks and keep his eyes set on me. Not that they sway from me to begin with.

I could scold him for worrying me, could waste energy being mad about his little mishap, but I can see in his eyes that he knows he messed up, and I cannot find it in me to be even remotely mad about it. Not at him. I just reach up and kiss him again, and the intensity of which he returns it feels apologetic, reassuring, and I let us stay like that in the foyer for some time.

His kiss travels however, brushes down my jaw, down towards my ear, and my arms curl around his neck as he does, my heart picking up speed for another reason other than worry as he nears my neck in gentle brushes. He pauses right before my ear, whispering softly.

“I’m sorry I worried you”

“I know…” I sigh. “It’s okay” I brush my fingers up into his hair. “We should get going, shouldn’t we?” I hate to ruin this, but I do have something to speak to Ramona about, more than just the swimwear, and I need to get that sorted as quickly as possible. And I… I don’t want to get carried away right now.

“Right” He sighs, leans back, and my arms uncurl from around him, allowing me to step away once his arms let me go, to tug on my summer jacket and get my bag over my shoulder.

Before long, we’re on his bike, headed for his home.  I let myself ponder the idea that came to me this morning in my mind, consider the possibilities as we zoom past the buildings and people along the streets. There is no doubt in my mind that it’d be the best option, the most meaningful gift I could give him, but no matter how badly I want to afford it myself, he asked me not to ruin myself, and to get this done  I ’ll need to take a loan, at the least.

There’s another approach to this, and I’ll see where it goes.

Arriving, Azriel and I are met by Ramona at the door, the woman ready to take a look at my things the moment I step through it. I take the items in question out and let Azriel bring my bag to his room while I follow Ramona to her studio, my mind structuring the conversation I wish to have with here before I leave that place.

“So, have they worked as intended?” She asks as she takes a seat by her worktable, motioning for me to sit down on the chair beside her.

“They’ve been perfect” I assure her as I sit down, but even so, she carefully studies the seams of the piece currently in her hand, the top of the white one.

“This one’s been in saltwater” How she deduces that I haven’t the slightest idea, but she’s accurate.

“Cassian thought it’d be funny to throw me into the sea, I happened to be wearing that one” She sighs.

“Typical, that boy lacks manners no matter how hard I try to instill them” I smile.

“He’s a good cook though” Ramona smiles and looks my way.

“I managed to teach the boy that, at least, amongst all the fighting and brawling” I let out a soft laugh, imagining a small Cassian helping her out in the kitchen. Her eyes return to the clothing. “Overall, this looks fine, I’ll keep it and give it a wash with some special chemicals of mine to get the softness back into the loser fabric though” I nod, completely alright with that. She moves on to the next piece, gives each seam a careful study. “Same goes for this one, just to make sure the fabric doesn’t stiffen” She sets it all aside and looks to me again. “Did you enjoy your time on the island?” I nod, no need for second thought.

“It was great, a truly magical place” She smiles.

“Azriel showed you the best of places, I hope?” I nod some more.

“Definitely, at least I’d hope so” She laughs softly.

“There’s always next year, should he have missed anything” I look to the side.

“Yeah… I guess there is…” I take a deep breath, figuring now is as good of a time as any to discuss my gift idea. “Ramona, I have an idea for his birthday, but I’m not sure it’s something I can do on my own” A brow of hers raises in curiosity.

“Oh? What would be the problem?” I gulp.

“Money… I can’t afford it on my own, and I hate to ask this, but if we were to give the gift together and split the cost, it wouldn’t completely ruin me” Ramona looks intently intrigued.

“What kind of gift are you thinking?” I let out an airy laugh to vent some of my nervousness, my hands picking at the hem of my shirt. 

“I haven’t fully decided, haven’t wanted to dive too deep into the thought before I knew I had some way to afford it… But it… Is the kind you don’t just get in your local mall, that’s for sure” I take another deep breath, then share the perhaps crazy idea with her, surprised to find her completely on board once I’m done with my nervous rant.

  
  


Õ

  
  


I knock faintly before pushing Azriel’s door open, finding him sat at his computer, his posture a little crooked, elbow perched onto the armrest, head perched atop his arm, and he spins his chair around a little to face me.

“Was everything fine?” I nod and slip inside fully, closing the door behind me and making my way to him.

“Just needs a good wash, what are you doing?” I ask, and he spins back to face his screen, so I let myself lean against his backrest, looking at his screen from behind.

“Looking through the pictures, removing low quality ones, playing a little with photoshop to make them fancier” He clicks his way to one of those photoshop projects, a picture of the docks, with dawn before it, the sky a gentle pink and gold above. “It used to look like this” He shows me the original, which is a nice picture, but lacks contrast in a way, the colors a little blander. “Just for fun” He looks up at me, and I shift my gaze down to his. “Do you want to see all the pictures I took?” I nod, and he motions for me to have a seat in his lap, and I’m swiftly seated and comfortable.

I know he took some now and then, but I’m curious what actually caught his perceptive eye.

Mostly nature, I note as he lets me click through them one by one, starting from the first day and onward. A picture of mister crab is also present, and I find one where I’m present, walking a couple meters ahead as we head for the western beach, the sunset shining through the trees, veiling me in a halo of light. I cast him a glance, not aware he took this picture, and he looks at least a little apologetic for not asking first.

“It was too good of a shot to pass up. I was going to show you, but I was sure you’d make me delete it, so… Sorry” I shrug, the feeling of being caught on camera a little strange, but again unable to feel mad. It _is_ a beautiful shot, even if I happen to be the centerpiece.

“Don’t be, if you want a picture of me, just ask, I’m not… Thrilled about pictures, but I can stomach it for you” He pulls me in closer against his chest, snuggling his face into the crook of my neck. 

“If you want any of me too, just say the word” I smile and move along, finding myself as stunned before the sunset now as I was yesterday once I reach it.

“You’re a good photographer” Azriel shrugs.

“I have a good camera, that the environment happens to be pretty isn’t my doing” I smile.

“I suppose…” I trail off as Azriel traces his nose up my neck, the touch sending shivers down my spine.

“Wanna play some Mario Cart?” I snort.

“Sure” Even though I know I’m in for a bad time.

  
  


Õ

  
  


Sure enough, after countless rounds of failure, I give in, gently tossing the controller onto his desk and fold my arms before my chest. All Azriel does is laugh at my misfortune  as he sets aside his controller as well .

“Another round?” He asks right by my ear, his tone distinctly teasing and infuriating. I shift my head and cast him a glare.

“No” I mutter sternly, and all he does is grin. My frown remains though, and soon his grin softens into a smile, his hand reaching up to my cheek and angling my face down to his.

“I’m not sorry about being good, Estelle” My frown wants to perk up into a smile at his joking tone, but I keep it firmly in place as I look down at him. His other hand nudges me to shift in my seat, and I allow that, at least, settling down with my legs hanging off the side of the chair. “And I had a lot of fun, actually” I narrow my eyes at him.

One of his hands settle just above my knees, while the one he’d kept at my cheek gently runs up and down my back.

“I’m not sure how I feel about you enjoying my torment” He grins.

“You knew what you were getting yourself into” I sigh, close my eyes.

“Yes… I did” His hand at my back guides me down closer, and when I open my eyes, I do so to the sight of his right before mine, his hot breath hitting my skin in soft plumes.

“Letting you win on purpose wouldn’t be right either, would it” I shake my head, but I couldn’t care less about my repeated failures as I lose myself to those lovely eyes of his, my frown long gone. My hand reaches up to his face, cups his cheek softly.

“You’re such an ass” He snorts, and I can’t help the smile that curls onto my lips. A gentle glance down to that grin of his, and a mirroring glance down at my lips on his part, and the two of them lock onto one another, my hand reaching around into his hair, gripping the soft strands as I kiss him with a mix of love and lighthearted frustration.

It doesn’t take him long to reach his hand up to my braid, nor does it take long for his fingers to undo it and let my hair fall loose down my back, his hand brushing through it in long sweeps as ou r lips dance.

His other hand curls around my knees, and soon that hand in my hair trails down around my back, his arms holding on tight as he stands with me. It catches me off guard, but I’m much too lost to bother as he takes me through his room, lays me down atop his soft bed and  keeps himself on his hands and knees above me as kiss stays locked on tight.

His lips just about begin to trail down to my neck when a knock sounds at the door, and he stops, his chest heaving as he lifts his head to look towards it.

“It’s dinner in five” Razie calls beyond it, and Azriel sucks in a breath to answer, while I work to keep my own heavy breathing silent at least, work to smother the glimmer of fire in me.

“Thanks, we’ll be down in a minute” He calls, and we listen as her footsteps fade down the hallway.

Azriel sighs and looks down at me, links his brow with mine and closes his eyes, breathing slowly above me. Once his eyes reopen,  he plants a soft kiss to my flushed cheek and gets off of me, standing by the bed and reaching out a hand for me to take, which I do and let him pull me up as well, right into his arms where I remain, just soaking up his warmth, listening to the fast, strong beat of his heart.

“We should head down” He mumbles, sounding less than pleased about it, and I can’t help but agree. I'm a little peckish though. 

I nod into his chest, lean out of his embrace and let him brush my hair back into place before he fully lets me go, and I do a run-through myself just to be safe while he heads for the door, and the two of us silently head down to have dinner with his entire family.

That thought has my nerves going into overdrive.

Somehow, my legs carry me down to the dinning room either way, the table at the center already occupied by Razie and Rhys, both of them flipping through their phones, though Rhys greets us with a nod as we enter and head for a seat at the large table. Azriel takes a seat to the left of me, and to the right—at the head of the table—sits Rhys, who puts his phone away once we get seated, though Razie lingers on hers.

She looks a lot like Rhys, just smaller, more womanlike. I can’t quite catch a glimpse of her eyes, but they seem like a dark blue, just like Rhysand’s.

“Thought you were home” Rhys states, the words directed my way, and I look to him.

“I had business with your mom, I stuck around” Rhys smiles, though it shifts into a slight smirk once he looks to Azriel. Azriel only glares at his brother, and his smile settles back down to being polite. “I hope I don’t intrude…” I say softly, a wave of uncertainty putting a dent on my attempted calm resolve. Azriel lays his hand at my knee in assurance, though Rhys is the one to voice it.

“Not at all, mom’s been wanting you over for dinner for weeks, she’ll finally have her wish granted” He looks towards the kitchen, and I note more than one person in there once I look as well. Cassian, from the looks of things.

“What are they making?” Azriel asks, and Rhys shrugs. 

“Some kind of chicken, I’m not sure. Think I saw rice” I try to get a whiff of whatever they’re making in there, but I can’t place it, not with confidence.

“Chicken fillets with rice and curry sauce, I think” Razie fills in Rhys’ lack of knowledge, lifting her gaze from her phone to look our way. Her eyes are indeed that near violet blue. “And some salad” She adds.

“Glad to hear you retain some outside information with that phone glued to your face” Rhys mutters at his sister, and she glares at him.

“I clearly retain more than you do, considering mom literary told us ten minutes ago” I watch Azriel’s face soften with the ghost of a smile, and I can’t help the gentle smirk I cast Rhys’ way. He’s too busy glaring at Razie to notice. “Too busy flirting with Feyre?” The clench to his jaw suggests he was doing just that.

“At least my feed isn’t full of fuck-boys” He retorts.

“You _are_ the fuck-boy in Feyre’s feed” I can barely hold in the snort, the inability to rein myself so strange, but the lengthy time around Rhys and his friends has truly loosened me up in that sense, and now it’s come to bite me in the behind.

Azriel and I share a glance, his strained calm hinting at his own repressed laughter, and we both find comfort in the fact that we’re both equally tortured.

“Well” Rhys leans an arm against the table, rests his chin in his palm. “I happen to wear that title with pride, because I’m _her_ fuck-boy” Is this how family dinners are supposed to sound? Or just sibling bickering.

“Such delightful topics” Rhys’ mother says as she enters the room with a plate full of chicken, moving to set it down on the table. Her eyes settle on me as she sets it down, and she smiles, perhaps reading my forced calm as discomfort. “I’d love to tell you they’re not usually like this, but I don’t like to lie” I smile, use her words as a chance to let it out of me.

“It’s fine, I don’t mind” Cassian enters then, a pot of what I assume is rice in his hands, and he looks surprised to see me as he sets down that pot. He flashes me a greeting grin though, and I grant him a gentle wave, then I look to Azriel.

_Did you tell no one I was coming?_ He takes a moment to register my signing, then smiles.

_It might have slipped my mind, I don’t think they noticed I left to get you either._ I sigh, but a happy sigh and look to my friends seated at the table, Cassian opposite of me now, beside Razie, leaving three more seats free at the other end of the table.

“Why do you do the hand talking if you can speak?” Razie asks out of nowhere. The question surprises me, as does the intensity of her eyes as she looks at me, a neat dark brow of hers raised in expectation.

“Isn’t that a little rude, Raz?” Cass comments.

“Yes, have you failed to notice Azriel does as well?” Rhys adds, looking between me and his sister.

“I mean, you guys thought she was mute before, so she clearly didn’t speak when you first met, why?” I swallow, unsure how to answer, or where to look, her eyes holding too much authority to look away from.

“Let’s keep those interrogating questions away from the dinner table, thank you” Ramona says as she moves to take the seat beside her daughter, and I’m saved from Razie’s intense eyes as she looks to her mother instead.

“I’m just curious”

“I’m sure you are, but all curiosities don’t need to be satisfied” She moves to put a filet on her plate. “Eat instead”

“What about father?” Rhys asks, reaching for some rice himself, slapping Cassian’s hand away as he tries to snatch the scoop first.

“He wasn’t sure when he’d get out of his meeting, he said to start without him” She answers calmly while the chaos of getting their plates filled continues, though Azriel and I remain patient and waiting for it to ease.

“As usual then…” Rhys mutters, granting him a look from his mother.

“Success requires sacrifices, Rhys, I’m sure he’s displeased about missing dinner as well and is doing all he can to get home” Rhys shrugs and reaches for a chicken, though surprises me when he puts it on my plate instead of his own and flashes me a smile, that moment of what sounded like ire washed from his features entirely, like he slipped on a mask, yet it doesn’t feel ingenuine.

I smile back in thanks, unsure what else to do, my voice seemingly lost to the uncertainty of this situation, and Rhys deems it enough and goes for anther filet of his own.

Azriel is getting himself food at this point, so I gingerly reach out for some rice, treating myself to about half a scoop.

“Estelle, please, that can hardly enough to fill you” Ramona comments on my rather dinky pile of rice, and I chew on my cheek as I face her.

“I…” I lose my train of thought and look back down at my plate. A huge slab of rice finds its way to my plate, practically devouring the chicken, and I snap my head back and lock my eyes on Cassian, grinning before me.

“You need food if you’re gonna keep building that muscle, El” I roll my eyes and let them land back at my plate. 

“Half a scoop would have been fine, you didn’t have to _drown_ the chicken” I mutter, and Cassian laughs.

“Don’t pretend that’s too much, I’ve seen you devour more than even _I_ can stomach in school” I let out a soft laugh, but it ends in a sigh. I reach for the sauce and figure I can at least enjoy it to the fullest.

It’s good, no doubt about that, better than the school lunch and better than any food I ever manage to throw together. It almost makes me forget that I’m eating someone else’ food without paying for it. Almost.  It’s a nice dinner, Ramona mainly asking everyone what they’ve been up to at the island, and the boys handle the talking for the most part. Until the topic of the crab king is brought up.

“Estelle and I caught the biggest crab yet” Azriel tells his mom, not shy to brag about this little feat of ours.

“Oh? Do tell” Ramona’s green-hazel eyes settle on us.

“Telling doesn’t do it justice” He says, tugging out his phone from his pocket and swiping to the picture. Ramona’s eyes widen as she sees the creature in the bucket, and even Razie looks impressed. Rhys and Cass just look gloriously defeated.

“A purple one, I haven’t seen that since you were all half your heights” Ramona states with a smile. “I was starting to think they’d been completely wiped out” She hands Azriel’s phone back, and he stuffs it into his pocket.

“Clearly not, Estelle found it hiding in a tuft” Her eyes settle on me then.

“It wanted to pinch my toes” She laughs, and I let a shy smile pass.

“Az and El are the crab royals now” Rhys begrudgingly admits.

“Where are our crowns Rhys?” Azriel asks, his tone wholly serious with a pinch of humor.

“Up your ass”

“Sounds unpleasant” He deadpans, and I cast him a grin.

“Boys, please” Their mother begs, and they quickly return their attention to their food.

This family is… Basically as chaotic as the circle, the circle merely an extension of the family, but this feels more proper somehow, there are manners that would otherwise be practically nonexistent with the circle, and while that isn’t a bad thing, it does leave an element of fear in the sense that I’m scared to break those unspoken rules of manners.

The only dinners I know with a family are silent ones, or ones full of scolding because I didn’t behave perfectly in school, not this… Lightheartedness.

I’m not sure how to behave in this dynamic, so silence unless spoken to feels safe.

“Any nacres this year?” Ramona moves the subject along.

“I found one” Azriel says calmly.

“Of course he did” Cassian sighs.

“You didn’t even look” Azriel shoots back at his brother.

“I had better things to do”

“Like throw women into the sea?” His mother asks calmly, and Cassian seems to pale as he looks to his mother, then at me.

“You told her” He states.

“She asked why my sunbathing-suit was stained with salt” I explain, stuffing my face with another forkful of amazing food. He looks back at Ramona.

“I had no idea she-”

“It’s in the past” Azriel cuts him off before he can finish the sentence. “Let’s move on” I agree, realizing Cass was about to reveal my previous swimming deficiency. Not that I’m efficient now, but I float.

A door opens then, a pair of tired footsteps entering the hallway,  and Ramona casts a glance its way, a gentle smile spreading across her lips.

“Still any left for me?” A man asks behind me in the doorway, and I shift in my seat to cast him a look.

“Of course” Ramona answers calmly, though Rowans eyes settle on me rather curiously. Rhys and Razie share his eyes, that’s for sure, though the blonde hair looks more like Mor’s gold, perhaps a couple shades darker. He radiates authority, much like Rhys can, and Razie did earlier, and I school my features into politeness to hide the mild nervousness.

He heads for his chair, scoops up some food, and seems more focused on his hunger than my presence, which is nice, though he casts me glances, and I can’t quite brush off my nerves.

“Rowan, you’re scaring our guest” Ramona says calmly, and her husband glances her way.

“Estelle was it?” He asks once he looks back from whatever silent conversation they had. I look his way and nod, force myself to maintain eye-contact and wear a mask of calm. “Nice to meet you” The voice of an experienced businessman.

“Likewise” I say calmly and return to my food.

“You remind me of someone” I blink, my eyes fixing on my plate for a second. “Not sure who though, or from where” I look up to face him again, and I note that even Cassian has gone quiet at this point, all eyes on the two of us. “Where are you from?” Good question.

“Cretea, but I lived in Hybern a while” Most my life, but he doesn’t need to know it all. Unfortunately, that seems to spark a memory in him.

“Cretea… I swear one of my business partners there have a secretary who looks just like you” A wave of cold washes over my, and it takes all I am to remain unfazed.

“The Seraphim hair makes a lot of us fairly similar” I try to slither away from the subject.

“Few still possess it, but I suppose” He returns to his food. “Diana, I think her name was” 

“Doesn’t ring a bell” He leaves it at that, and even as I try to ignore it, it makes me curious, and how nauseous, the food on my plate no longer appetizing.

I end up handing it to Azriel, casting a polite, apologetic smile Ramona’s way, which she answers with a reassuring smile. Azriel looks worried though, and Rhys and Cass look mildly concerned, at the least. I don’t acknowledge them though, remain silent for the rest of dinner until we disperse, Azriel and I returning to his room. Once within the confinement of his four walls, Azriel sits me down in his lap atop his bed, and I can’t help but curl in on myself and cuddle close while his hand runs up and down my back.

“Should we look them up?” I gulp.

“I don’t know” I don’t know if I want to know. 

“It could be a coincidence, but… I’ve never seen someone who looks like you…” Neither have I, not in Hybern, and not here in Prythian. The Seraphim traits are almost exclusive to the island the city stands upon, and even then, as Rowan said, the fading hair is dying out.

“I have a sister” Somewhere out there. “She looks like me” Based on that photograph at least.

“I know” He mumbles, and after a deep sigh, he leans back and lays us down on the bed, and I curl into his side, my head resting comfortably on his arm. “We can ignore it, or we do a simple Instagram search and see what we find, or Twitter, and find out for sure” I suck in a deep breath.

Is knowing worth it? Will it just bring more pain? Or is living in the dark worse?

Is my unknowing a source of the void I rim?

“Okay” I gulp. “Let’s see” Azriel tugs out his phone, types his way to Instagram while his other hand runs up and down my side soothingly, and before long, the name Diana is put into the search box. A bunch of options pop up already, but once he adds the first letter of my last name, it narrows down significantly.

And one is named Dreever.

My heart stops beating, my lungs stop breathing.

I can’t.

He presses his way to her profile, and while their profile picture was of a cute cat, one of the most recent selfies reveal a woman with golden skin, platinum faded hair and eyes the colors of coals,  sat on a beach with what I presume is a friend of hers .

Her skin doesn’t hold a blemish.

_I can’t_ .

My eyes blur with tears, my breathing restarting in shallow chips as I sob, unable to hold it in, to restrain the overwhelming emotions I cant even begin to name, and that phone, that picture, is quickly put away as Azriel rolls around to wrap me into his arms.

She’s perfect. She’s me but perfect. 

Azriel knows better than to try and comfort me with words, his comfort silence and a loving embrace, an embrace I snuggle into as deeply as I can, even if my tears stain his shirt. 

I wonder, did they… Did she get left behind too? I can’t remember. She was there, but I… If she’d been put up for adoption too, wouldn’t we have gone together? Is that how that works? 

I don’t know.


	23. Curiosity

I still don’t know what to make of it the next day, and I take out my uncertainty on the piano in the  living room ,  Az and the boys playing Smash on the living room TV while I do. I hardly notice them. I’ve always known she was out there, figured at least, but I’ve never been inclined to look for her, for any of them, I never allowed myself to. Maybe out of spite, or anger, or fear. I’m not entirely sure, but to have a name… To at least have a way to find her… Talk to her…  Is that even something I want?

She’s my sister, the last living blood-relative I have for all I know, would I regret it later on if I didn’t try to reach out? I have Azriel now, the circle, they’re my makeshift family in a way, do I really have to hunt down my real one?  Is it worth it?

I suck in a deep breath and keep playing, playing notes at seemingly random, though to me, they represent my turmoil and create a chaotic melody that somehow makes sense, yet does not. If my audience finds it odd, they don’t comment, too busy smashing each other into the void.

“Estelle?” I stop playing and shift in my seat, finding Ramona in the doorway, her eyes holding secrecy and urgency as she looks my way. As they cast in Azriel’s direction, I figure what it’s about and silently rise, sneaking my way over.

Surely enough, she brings me to an office, to Rowan seated before a computer, and I figure he’s been let in on the idea of mine, figure he’s in on it from the determined look in his eyes as they meet mine.

“Just thought we could have a look while you’re here” He says calmly, motioning for the two sets of chairs beside his, and Ramona and I take them and get to searching.

By the time we manage to settle on one, over an hour has passed, and I figure Azriel is looking for me at this point—or at least knows I’ve gone somewhere—so I slip back to the living room, indeed granted Azriel’s attention once I do. He and his brothers are still playing, though not smash now, but something else I have no clue what it’s called.

They’re just yelling at each other and making food?

“Azriel! Where are the plates!” Rhys exclaims, and his questioning gaze snaps back to the TV while I approach the couch from behind them.

“We need more onions!” Cassian exclaims like it’s perfectly normal for a twenty-three year old to scream about onions. 

What in the world… 

“Do I even want to know?” I ask as I lean against the backrest behind Azriel, trying to make sense of the chaos.

“Overcooked” He says it like it’s supposed to mean something to me. He isn’t given the chance to explain further as Cass urges him to help chop onions.

The bat boys together in their home environment is somehow even more chaotic than with the entire circle. Chaotic in a different way. I suppose we all have different ways of being around certain people. No side of them is any less real, though I’m starting to notice a distinct bunch of masks Rhys fluctuates between depending on the occasion. Or perhaps it’s better described as he being a room with many doors that he decides which to keep open and which to keep closed depending on the situation.

Azriel and I just try to close the front door completely to keep unwanted eyes away from our emotions, and Cass veils his with a threatening brutishness and cockiness.

It’s intriguing to watch them play this stressful game, distracting and welcomed.

“Yes! Three stars!” Cass exclaims, raising his controller into the air. Azriel slumps back in his seat with a sigh, and I gently let my hand brush through his hair in response, at which he leans back for more.

“Wanna join us El?” Rhys invites while I help ease what I assume is a headache on Azriel’s part, and I look to him, look to the controller waiting on the coffee table.

“Do I?” Rhys grins, but Cass is the one who reaches out to that controller and tosses it into Azriel’s lap, which seems to startle him, as he jumps ever so slightly.

“Yeah, it’ll be fun” Azriel picks up the controller and looks up at me in question.

Why the hell not.

“Explain, at least” I say, taking the controller from his hand and moving to sit down beside him.

“We’ll do an easy map so you get the hang of it, Az can show you the basics” And so I join the madness.

Once I figure out the controls and all, it proves to be quite fun, and soon all four of us are yelling orders across the couch in our pursuit of victory.  It’s a welcomed distraction, and it occupies us until lunch brings us together in the dining room, and general chit chat ensues, which I remain silent through, doing my best to just eat.

Afterwards, Rowan requests Azriel’s help with something business related, and I’m left to myself in his room to relax. Normally, the silence would be welcome after such a long time of social interaction, but I find it intrusive, find that my mind fills the silence with thoughts I shouldn’t get hung up on.

Before I can stop myself, I work my way through my old phone and actually manage to get onto Instagram. Not bothering to make an account—because I don't need one for this—I find my way to her profile, and I descend into madness with each scroll of my thumb.

She mainly posts pictures of her cat, or her calligraphy works and new pens she buys and other trivial things, and I find no pictures of anyone who look like our parents. I can’t message her without an account, and maybe that’s a good thing, because I don’t feel like anything good would come out of it, my anger  a little too close to the surface right now.

Because she shows off a seemingly happy life, with friends and a good job and a nice apartment somewhere in Cretea,  and no problems to be found, no demons that haunt her mind. But I know better than to truly believe what she posts to be the full truth, have learnt enough from the social media part of my human behavior course to know that those who look too perfect on the outside, probably hide internal scars. The circle in itself is a physical representation of that in some cases, so I rein my anger and give the woman the benefit of doubt,  though I remain on the edge of cold irrational rage .

One picture in her feed is strange to me, as it’s just a picture of a beautifully crafted date, no caption to it. 16 th it says, written in silver and lined with gold, the background  black, dotted with stars and a moon . It takes a moment for the date of the post to register.

The sixteenth of march. My birthday.

I find that comments have been turned off to this post, and the picture itself holds no secret tags. I move along then, scroll down with purpose until I find another picture,  with  the same aesthetic,  though a background of feathery wings folding over the numbers and letters. No captions, no nothing.

I scroll further.

Another one,  similar to the previous, though with free feathers floating about in the shape of a heart.

For three years—at the least—she’s been posting this kind of picture for my birthday, and I haven’t had a clue. My sister, estranged for nearly twenty years, remembers my birthday, knows enough  _about_ me to know I like the night sky.

Or is it a hint that I’m in the Night Court in College?

Does she know where I am but is choosing not to approach me?

It’s too much, too much to stomach right now, and I promptly turn off the application and toss my phone onto the bed with a sigh, an arm reaching up to cover my eyes, my head pounding with distress, though I do my best to shut it down, to clear my head and think of something else.

“Estelle?” I’m so caught up in my head that I don’t notice the door opening, and I let my arm fall to the side again as I look towards him. He looks concerned as he closes the door behind him and heads for me, his eyes full of question as he sits down at the edge of it, his body angled towards me, and a hand reaching up to brush through my hair.

“I’m fine” My tone hardy convinces myself, nor does it Azriel, as he raises a brow. “I just…” I sigh, not sure how to put it.

Azriel lays down then, nudges me to roll onto him, and with myself safely tucked against his chest, a hand of his running through my hair, I begin to feel a little more at ease. 

“I looked at her profile again” I admit, listening to the sound of his heart to keep myself together, his warmth thawing some of the cold within me, thawing the frost of anger and smoothing my sharpened edges.

“Why?” Why torture myself with it?

“I just… Wanted to see…” I sigh. “I remember her, you know, vaguely” My throat seems to close itself, but I make an attempt to clear it, which seems to work to a degree. “She was kind to me, when I wasn’t throwing tantrums” The memories are foggy, but I know she wasn’t evil, she was kind.

“I can’t picture you throwing tantrums” I snort.

“Oh if only you knew…” He chuckles faintly.

“ Did you find what you were looking for?”

“No” I found more than I needed to know. “She posts a photo every year for my birthday” I admit, and Azriel’s combing ceases for just a moment.

“A birthday wish?” I shake my head.

“Not verbally, just a calligraphy of the date, no captions, no nothing” 

“She remembers, then” Azriel comments softly, his hand returning to it’s soft combing.

“She was old when I left, past eight, it’s not impossible…” Silence lingers between us for a moment, but it’s the kind of silence I can linger in with him for hours on end, not the intrusive unnerving one of lonesomeness, or the welcomed void of emptiness it used to be before I met the circle.

“Do you want to talk to her?” I linger on that question for a while.

“Not right now, nothing good would come out of it” I feel him nod, lean in to brush a kiss to my temple.

“When you’re ready” The way he holds me tighter works as a silent promise to be there once I am, and my heart swells with warmth, a warmth that shoves out the cold and leaves me content in his arms for however long we are allowed, and he doesn’t seem inclined to let me go any time soon either.

  
  


Õ

  
  


I’m not particularly tired once night comes along, even though I have work tomorrow and _should_ sleep. Azriel isn’t particularly tired either, so he puts on a movie on one of his computer monitors on his desk in hopes of urging some sleep into our system as we lay in bed. It's a little far off, but I can hear what’s being said at least. Azriel doesn’t seem to have any issues seeing it though.

Iron man, he said it was called, apparently inclined to introduce me to another universe of interconnected movies, which I was open for, and I find that I enjoy it, but would probably find it more enjoyable if I could see what was happening a little clearer.

The character is fun though, his humor works for me.

Another distracting aspect in all this is Azriel’s hand, insisting to run up and down my back, and lower when he feels a little braver, my position laid atop him leaving my backside as easy access, and I don’t particularly mind.

I return his touch with soft kisses to his chest,  to the ink swirling across it,  not tired at all, despite the late hour. I work those kisses up his neck, along his jaw, until my lips find his and stay there, a hand of mine uncurling from beneath his pillow to grip his cheek and keep him locked on me.

He doesn’t complain, not at all, his lips as in on the dance as mine are as we let time fade away, the movie practically forgotten as his tongue graces my lip and slips inside to tangle with mine.

I don’t dare go further though, not further than lips and tongue and a hint of teeth, the occupancy in this house lingering in the back of my mind, dulling the spark in my blood. Azriel doesn’t seem to mind that either, content with kissing me all night long if that’s what I want, and honestly, while I found the night in the cabin with him lovely—beyond lovely even—I’m glad we haven’t lost other aspects of our relationship because of it, still as content to just relax in the other’s company as we are making out well into the late hours. I’m glad things haven’t changed, been lost. 

It’s just another door we can choose to pass through should we want to, an option to add to the others. Not a must, but a choice.

  
  


Õ

  
  


I’m not particularly keen on going to work the next day, only a few hours of sleep to my name. Luckily, I work at a coffeehouse, and caffeine isn’t something I’m unused to have fuel me. 

Azriel is kind enough to buy me one before my shift starts, the two of us having a mug together like old times before I leave to get to work, and he heads home to do whatever he feels like doing on this particularly sunny day. Cass mentioned going to the gym, so probably that at some point.

A part of me would much rather work myself to the bone at the gym than be here, but so is life, and I can’t do anything about it. My vacation is over, and now I need to get the money rolling in again, especially with my recent purchase.

My bank account hurts, but I don’t regret a thing.

Mary isn’t here today, but a young guy from the local High-school, I think, not someone I’m used to working with, but he figures out my silence pretty fast, so work goes on as usual.

An hour after lunch rush, a new customer steps through the doors, and I cast them a glance as I normally do, just to see if I have a clue what they might frequent and make sure that some of the ingredients needed are at least easily accessible. I don’t recognize them at first, but feel like I should and do a double take, realizing it’s Sarah.

Her eyes settle on me, sparkle with a glimmer of surprise, but brushes it off once she heads over to order.

I feel her watching me while I prepare her coffee—a simple latte—and once I set it down at the retrieval, she greets me with a smile.

“Didn’t know you worked here, Estelle” She says in form of greeting. I shrug and wipe my hands clean on the towel attached to my apron. “Say, got time for a chat?” I glance at the clock, find that my break is in about five minutes anyways, so I hold up five fingers to signal as much.

She gives me a thumbs up.

“I’ll be over there” She points towards a table by the windows, and I nod, heading to do some minor cleaning while I wait for my break to roll around, picking out a lunch sandwich while I’m at it.

I motion to my coworker that I’m taking my break, and then I’m off, a plain ham and cheese sandwich in tow as I head for Sarah’s table, giving my pocket a quick pat to see if I have my pen and notebook.  Taking the seat opposite of her, I raise a brow in question, curious what she wants. She takes a long sip of her latte before she talks.

“The gang managed to get the school to lend us their recording studio during the break, we’ve been putting it to use these past couple weeks, any chance you wanna join us this afternoon?” I don’t try to hide my surprise, and I set aside my sandwich in favor of pen and paper.

_Sure, I get off at four_ . I write, sliding the note over to her, and she looks genuinely glad to hear it, or read it.

“Great! Just head to school from here and we’ll let you into the basement, it’ll be fun!” A thought seems to cross her mind. “Actually, let me give you my number so you can text me when you arrive” she writes down a series of numbers and hands me back my notebook, and I tug out my phone to put it in my contacts, naming it Sarah. “Jellal’s working on a melody, but you’re way better at it than he is, even if he refuses to admit it. He’s more of a chord kind of guy” I let a smile slip past my social mask.

_He’s good too._ I write and shove the note her way, and she rolls her eyes.

“Yeah, but don’t be modest, you rock at what you do” She nudges it back. “How’d you learn?” I take a deep breath, trying to figure out a short easy way to write that down.

_School._ Is the only answer I can give, really, but it isn’t the full truth.  School aided it by letting me into the music room whenever I wanted, and some of my foster families had keyboards I’d sit at for hours on end, so it was a joint effort.

“Just school?” I sigh and look out the window, unsure how to better put it without revealing more than I want. “Did you like, play during breaks?” I look to her then and nod. “I guess socializing wasn’t on the table, huh” I let another smile slip. She’s not wrong, even if I wasn’t mute—isn’t—I wasn’t much of a social butterfly even then, people mostly kept away from me, and that was fine by me.

I get to eating my lunch again.

“You walking to school later or…?” That reminds me that Azriel promised to come get me after work, and I return my focus to my phone, typing my way to our message chain.

_Change of plans, drive me to school after work instead._ I send, then put my phone away and write down an answer for Sarah.

Talking would be so much easier, but I’m not quite there yet

_I’ve got a ride._ I slip her way, and she nods, seems glad to hear that.

My phone blips then.

_Why?_ The message reads on my lock-screen, and I type my way in to answer.

_Music with the band._ His dots pop up instantly.

_Actually? In school?_ I shoot a look of apology for using my phone Sarah’s way, but she brushes me off and sips her latte.

_They’ve convinced the principal to let them use the studio in the basement._ I take a bite out of my sandwich while I wait for Azzy to answer.

_Sounds sketchy, but alright, sure, you’re not walking home alone tonight though._ I can’t help but roll my eyes, but get where he’s coming from. Sarah sees it and looks curious about it, but doesn’t comment.

_Fine, dad._

_Stop calling me that._ I can practically hear his exasperated voice with just the faintest hint of amusement. It brings a faint, mischievous smile to my lips, I can’t help it.

_Make me._

“It’s strange, you know” My eyes shift to Sarah. “When we’re in school you’re all intimidating and cold, less so sometimes, sure, but still. Now you just look… Happy? I can’t place it” I hold her gaze for a moment, unsure what to say to that, but my phone buzzing again tears away my attention.

_Don’t tempt fate, love._ Instantly, my smile is back, my heart doing a flip in my chest.

“Just look at you! I’m _royally_ confused and _demand_ an explanation” She smiles, laughs, and I almost catch myself doing the same before I remember the silence act and swallow it down.

I reach for my notebook and write the only answer I can give.

_It’s complicated._ She doesn’t look pleased with it, but it’s all she’ll get.

“Who are you talking to anyway?” My answer to that is a smile I hope conveys _you wish you knew._ She sighs dramatically. “You Night Courters confuse me, it’s like half of you are bipolar or something” That would be the masks, yes. 

I decide to move us along from the subject, writing down a question about the songs they’re working on to get her talking while I listen and eat my lunch, using visual ques to show my approval or understanding and all that, but soon I have to get to work again, and I bid her goodbye for now.

  
  


Õ

  
  


Azriel pulls up to the large, empty building, and I find that the vacancy is a little unnerving, strange. I send Sarah a message that I’m in the front after tugging off my helmet, and I cast Azriel a glance as pulls up the wind guard of his helmet to look at me.

“Promise to text” I roll my eyes, but smile.

“I will” I assure him, casting a glance towards the school again. I’m about to say something more, but I notice Sarah emerging from one of the outer staircases down to the basement, and I sow my mouth shut. I turn to Azriel then, flash him a smile as I sign. _I’ll see you soon._ I just barely catch the smile behind his helmet before he closes the hood again.

_Have fun._ He signs back, and I move towards Sarah then while Azriel heads on his way.

I’m a little nervous, though in this exciting sort of way. Nervous about what to expect, but excited to be a part of it.  Sarah’s greeting smile is inviting and reassuring, and she urges me down to the basement with her, speaking openly about how excited she is to work with me on the team. I’m flattered, though keep a near neutral, though inviting exterior, unsure how else to wear my mask, one I still feel I should, just in case.

She brings me to the studio, where Filip, Julia and Jellal are already gathered over a pile of notes I assume is musical in nature, and they all greet me with smiles, say Jellal who looks… Hesitant.

Once Jellal came back from the hospital, he was always wary of me, and no matter my politeness, he seems to keep his reservations.

I mainly blame Cassian, because he managed to ruin the Summer Court’s high-school arts-and-crafts sale stand in freshman year and has yet to live it down, something Varian made sure to mention in form of greeting during Amren’s graduation.

Good times. I wish I’d been present for it.

“Let’s get to work!” Sarah exclaims, and to work we get.

They run me through what they want, what chords they have down, and from there I’m given a piano and told to just feel the flow while they play their designated instruments around me. It’s a love song, an easy first pick to work on according to Sarah, and I feel it in the guitar-strumming  from Filip, the soft drums from Julia, and the gentle violin Jellal has claimed for this particular song.

It’s a happy one, a positive one, and as I feel my way through the chords, I let my mind wander to the island, to the moments Azzy and I shared there, the love that thumps in my heart for him, and I simply melt into the music, let the warmth in me guide me to the right notes.

I hardly realize it ends before Sarah clasps her hands in excitement.

“Oh Cauldron! That’s perfect!” I smile shyly and look down at the keyboard, unsure what to do with myself, my mask so royally torn off it takes me a moment to slip it back on. “Now we just have to do some note refinement and put it on a sheet, then we can keep working on the lyrical aspect of it, I’m still not happy with some lines…” The keyboard apparently records the notes you play and translates it to a program on the computer down here, allowing us to listen to it again and tweak the note placements however we wish. It’s interesting to learn it, Filip—who is the most skilled at the program— shows me how to work it while the others give input as we listen, and I find myself smiling rather freely during the hours I stay.

When the hour approaches eight, the others are still fighting over the lyrics, a part I leave to them, though tossing them lines I come up with now and then in the form of notes, just to stir the pot.

I note a text from Azzy and give it a look.

_Should I be ready soon?_ I look to the bickering group of people before me.

_I’m not sure_ . I set aside my phone for a second and write a note to the group, tossing it to them, and Julia is the one who notices it and gives it a read.

“When we plan to go home?” She looks to me, then to those around her. They look unsure. Sarah looks to the clock on the wall then.

“We should probably head home soon…” She looks to me. “You tired?” I shrug. “We could drive you home, it’s pretty late” I reach for the notebook again, and Filip is kind enough to hand it to me.

_I have a ride_ . I hold up for them all to see, a polite look on my face.

“Azriel?” Sarah continues to question, and Jellal noticeably tenses at the mention of him. “It’d be easier for us to just drive you” Indeed, but… Am I ready to have them knowing where I live, I don’t know.

_It’s fine._ I insist, and Sarah’s lips purse.

“Fine, but we’ll drive you next time, spare you the trouble of finding rides” She begins gathering the lyric sheets and stands, as does the others. “Clean up crew!” She orders, and they head to work. I send Azriel a quick heads up that I’m finished here and head to do the same.

They don’t leave before he arrives, insist not to, no matter how I urge them that it’s fine, and I bid them goodbye with a wave before stuffing my head in the helmet and taking my seat behind Azriel, content with today, though tired.

It shows once we head up the stairs, my steps sluggish and my head pestered by a soft headache. Azriel looks mildly concerned where he walks beside me, but I think the seemingly permanent smile on my lips wards off the worst of his worries.

Even so, I let out a tired sigh as I step through the door, put my helmet in place, hang up my coat and put my shoes in their place.

“Had fun?” Azriel asks calmly at my side, and I look his way, my tired smile widening.

“Yeah, lots” He smiles, though his eyes drift to the bedroom door, and I get the wordless question. “I’m exhausted…” I sigh and let myself lean against his frame, his arms quick to capture me

“I can tell” He murmurs against the top of my head. “Common” He says, gathering me into his arms. “Let’s get ready for bed” I couldn’t be more on board.


	24. Home alone

The week passes slowly, even though I join the girls on a shopping trip one afternoon—not buying a thing because I'm next to broke—and go to the beach on another with the entire gang. I didn’t swim, not ready to show off that newfound skill of mine, but I worked on my tan. Even so, the hours at work just pass so terribly slowly it’s unbearable, even if Azriel comes to visit over lunch when he can. I just want to be able to spend an entire day with him, a day cuddled up in his arms, hiking through the forest, watching a movie, going on a road trip. Something alone, something just us, but work is just not allowing it.

Azriel grants me some hope on Thursday however, revealing that pretty much everyone are away this weekend on various adventures of their own, and we decide I’m to come over on Friday after work.

Sadly, it only makes Friday pass slower as I clean the tables and sort out the dishes and grind coffee beans and all those delightful things that my paycheck requires.

The walk to his place is nice though, a walk I requested because I feel I lack exercise these days, and Azriel begrudgingly complied once I promised to stick to populated streets. It’s not like his area is as sketchy as mine, but I appreciate his thoughtfulness, even if he’s a little over the top about it.

I’m just glad someone’s looking out for me.

I figure he’s worried about the Hybern issue, as  he still hasn’t been able to figure out what Amarantha was doing here with Eris, what they were planning, but things have been quiet, not a sign of either she or Eris, and I doubt they’ll do anything to me in public.

Either way, I get to the Noctis house, or manor, depends how big a house has to be to classify as one, and the front door is unlocked for me as promised, the house as empty as Azriel said it’d be. I lock the door behind me and shrug of f my light jacket, hang it up and head for his room, assuming he’ll be in there, as he’s not in the living room.

My assumption is correct, as I find him in the middle of a game, talking to someone through his headset as I push the door open to enter.

He notices, looks back at me over his shoulder and smiles, but quickly returns his focus on the game he’s currently playing with his online friend. I close the door behind me and head to lean against the back of his chair, letting my hands settle at his shoulders, giving him a gentle massage while I try to make sense of the game.

Some kind of shooter, it looks like, but I’m not familiar with the name.

“I gotta head off after this” Azriel tells those he speaks to, and I think I hear some yells of dismay on the other end past his headset. “Carry yourselves, I’ve got shit to do” His tone remains even and calm, with just a hint of amusement.

He leaves despite their protesting once his game is done, he and his team the victors, and he takes off his headset and puts it on his desk before turning the chair to face me. I don’t waste a heartbeat before sitting myself down in his lap, straddling him as my arms rest across his shoulders.

“Am _I_ the shit you have to do?” I ask innocently, and he smirks partly, a glimmer of seductive darkness filling his gorgeous eyes.

“You could be, if you want to” He murmurs, reaching up to trail a line of kisses down my jaw. “You’re not shit, of course” He adds as he reaches the start of my neck. I laugh softly, blushing at the clear invitation on his part, my breathing a little uneven as I consider the thought, only worsened by his gentle nipping kisses.

“We’ll be alone tonight” I state, even if it’s meant as a question.

“The whole house to ourselves” He confirms, trailing his lips down the length of my neck, his hands at my hips, holding me close against him, his thumbs running circles down towards my thighs, a touch easy to feel through my tights.

I can’t deny the flickering flame within me, not as his teeth scrape along the length of my neck, not as he bites hold of my shirt’s collar and tugs in gentle request. It crossed my mind once he asked me to stay over this weekend, mentioned it’d be empty. It lit me up in my lonesomeness, the thought of his hands on me again, in  _that_ way, but it also made me nervous.

It still does now. Even if I want it—want him—the thought of fighting those mental demons continue s to temper the flame.

“What would you _do_ to me?” I ask softly, my tone airy and faint as he kisses the edge between cloth and skin.

“Whatever you’d want” He murmurs, his mouth closing around a section, his teeth digging in a little deeper, dragging along my skin as he slowly closes his mouth, and my breathing shudders, body quivers, a hand of mine reaching up into his soft silky hair, gripping it, keeping him there.

“I…” My words fail me as his tongue sweeps up my neck, along my pulse.

“Yes?” He breathes into my ear, sending lightning down my spine, heat into my core, and my legs tighten around his torso in response, press me closer to his solid chest. “Tell me what you want, Estelle” I tremble at the mere tone in his voice, tremble with a want I still can’t quite handle, still don’t exactly know what to do with.

“You…” I breathe, tightening my grip of his hair. “I want you…” His hands move back, cup my behind and press me close as he stands, his lips finding mine as he ascends, the intensity of his kiss coaxing a groan from deep within my throat, my other hand palming a fist-full of his shirt as I kiss him back with more fire than I know what to do with, how to wield.

He sits us down atop his bed, lets his hands trail up to unbutton my shirt, not once letting go of my lips, even as he shrugs it off of my shoulders and lets it fall to the floor. Only when I slip my hands beneath his shirt—push it up—does he pull back, helping me work it over his head and toss it aside.

My hands move across his chest, trace the dark swirls of shadow etched to his skin, feel the pulse of his heart within, fast and strong beneath my hand. And his eyes, hooded with a lust that devours me whole—that coaxes my own out of hiding— makes me yearn for more.

His hands reach up my back, unclip my bra and shrugs it off, trail to my front and grasp me in his palms, squeezes, though not hard, just a maddening pressure that has me arching against him, panting against the need for more, his lips granting me that as they settle at the root of my neck, teeth and all, over smooth or rugged skin. My pants turn into gasps, my burn grows into an ache, and my hands push him down onto the bed before I truly think about it, tear his lips and hands from me in the process, but leave him pinned beneath me,  which  has that beast  with in me purring, especially as I shift in my seat and feel his hardness beneath me, just past his sweatpants.

It does grant mixed feelings, but the purr  of delight is louder than the whispers of poisonous fear.

Azriel’s hands—gloved still—settle at my hips, and I keep my eyes set on his as he pushes up against me, gasp at the pressure, let my own weight push down against it, and feel satisfaction bubble through me as he groans and presses his head back into his pillow.

“Is this… Another way?” I breathe, sure I’ve heard of it, but not quite keen on the specifics.

“Yes” He pants, his hands nudging my hips into a gentle roll atop his. “With less clothing…” He continues, and a lazy smile tugs onto my lips.

“Obviously” 

“Just making sure” I let out a soft laugh, let my hands trail down his chest, his stomach, over every bump of muscle he possesses, all the way down to the hem of his pants and hook my fingers onto them, my eyes only leaving his then.

Using my legs to perch me up higher, I tug, find the angle off, the act difficult, but Azriel reaches down and does the work for me, leaves himself in his undershorts beneath me before urging me down again, a groan pushing out of him as I rest my entire weight atop him.

He rolls me down though, lays me down at his side and lets his hands hook onto my tights, tugs them down slowly as his mouth finds mine and my pants find the ground.

“I want that way…” I breathe as his lips leave mine, his hands working his gloves off in a haste.

“You’ll get that way” Is all he answers as he chucks them to the floor along with the rest of it all, his hands coming down to my cheeks as he continues. “I’ll help you” His thumb brushes along my lips. “First I…” He trails off as my lips part and my tongue sweeps across the pad of his thumb, something flickering in his eyes, something I don’t quite catch.

The rough skin is a clear contrast to my tongue, and  I let my teeth latch on gently and my lips close around it, all while the man before me looks utterly mesmerized. I raise a brow his way, and he blinks, seems to fumble for words, and I decide to free him from my lips, let his thumb slip back out, Azriel letting out a sigh in response.

“No?” I ask cautiously, a pang of fear slamming into me at the thought of doing something wrong, making him uncomfortable. He gulps.

“No, yes, I-” He cuts off, sweeps that thumb across my cheek, his eyes a wide wild mess I can’t quite dissect into clear signals. “No one’s ever-” He closes his gaping, struggling mouth and takes a deep breath. Then he lets go of my cheek reaches over me, to his bedside drawer. I realize why once I see what he brings back, his eyes sparkling with question, the mess cleared to that one twinkle.

I’ll ask later.

Right now, my answer is yes, and I let my near frantic nods convey it. Before long, there are no clothes left on us,  and little is left to the imagination in Azriel's dimly lit room.

Azriel’s hands roam across my body, his eyes sweeping across my bare frame, until they settle on mine and his brow raises slightly, his tongue doing a suggestive sweep across his lower lip. My blood boils at the mere thought of his tongue between my thighs again.

He reads my sharp exhale as the approval it is,  and he moves down before I truly realize he’s moving, his hands hooking one of my legs over his shoulder as his lips plant lingering kisses down my inner thigh. By the time my mind catches up, all I am is delighted, thrilled, content with this, familiar with this, confident about this kind of vulnerability.

We’ve done this before, there’s nothing to fear.

I am safe, I am always safe with Azriel.

I unravel the moment his tongue plunges, surrender to the pleasure as it surges through me, let my voice lose as I sound my approval loud and clear, no one here to hear.  Each flick of his tongue works me towards completion, fills me to the brim with burning light, until it all flows out of me in a cry of bliss I have no power to hinge, my leg tightening around him as I let it flow,  and he keeps at it until I’m practically trembling beneath him.

It all goes by in a haze then, the way he crawls over me, kisses me, rolls us over, and the haze remains until I seat myself atop him. The feel of him beneath me slips uncertainty into my blood, nervousness. Azriel’s eyes soften then, lose some of their fire in favor of comfort and care while I work to steady my mind, my body, trembling with the clash of want and fear.

He sits up, settles his hands at my hips and holds my gaze, lets one hand reach up and brush a strand of pale hair behind my ear, lets it settle at my cheek.

“Do you want this?” He asks, his voice deep, rasping, yet soft. I nod, ever faintly.

“Yes” It’s less than a whisper, but he hears it no problem.

“Do you want me?”

“ _Yes_ ” Now and always.

“Then take me, I’m yours” Even though I know I can’t see anything, I glance down, well aware what waits bellow me. Then, once I look back into his eyes, I let my hands grip his shoulders, let them slowly push him down against the mattress, and through the guiding help of his hands and soothing words of encouragement, I take him, slowly and carefully at first, my mind protesting every time a link in the chains which tie me down snaps, unraveling memories best forgotten. Once his mending touch reaches them however, as the good overpowers the bad—drowns it out of my head—I let go. Let go of my restraint—of my reservations—and let Azriel be all that remains, all which matters.

He remains all which matters once I’m curled up in his arms hours later, my body exhausted, but in a good way, relaxed beyond comprehension, my mind only half conscious.

Azriel left once after, to clean himself, and while I complained then, I hardly remember him going anywhere now, hardly recall him being anywhere but beside me, and I let that be my only focus as I linger on the edge of consciousness, holding on to him as much as he is me, content to stay here all evening.

Content to stay forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still not 100% comfortable writing these kinds of things, but they're important to Estelle's mental growth, so I do my best. Hope it's not terribly written.


	25. Strings

I can’t stay forever, because when Monday comes after yet another weekend spent in the presence of Azriel’s family, work tears me away from him, and continues to do so for most of the week. Because the afternoons are mainly spent in the studio with the gang, and all is good and well, sure, but I can’t stop missing Azriel in my daily life.

I’m sat on my phone one particular afternoon in the school basement when something peculiar happens. A text from an unknown sender.

_You can’t hide_ . Nothing more,  just those unnerving words . I screenshot the text and send it to Azriel, but before he has time to comment, Filip  snatches my attention.

“Everything alright Estelle?” My head lifts from my phone in surprise, and I soon remember to nod. He doesn’t look convinced. “You’re pale” Normally, that wouldn’t be unusual, but with my newfound tan, there’s not much I can do to excuse it.

I decide to just brush it off and keep working, let Azriel pick me up later that night and have a look at the message, let him do some ip searching or whatever he said it was. He finds nothing. I settle on just blocking the number and doing what I can to forget about it as I head to bed for the evening, Azriel staying over, and I don’t complain for a heartbeat.

It’s quiet from there, and with every passing day, Azriel’s birthday draws closer, every day spent either with the circle once I get out form work, or with the music gang, or just with Azriel,  doing whatever comes to mind.

He takes me to a watchtower outside of town one Saturday, a small little adventure of our own, and the calm of nature combined with a comfortable bench and a beautiful view makes for a rather pleasant make-out  place .

Now and then, I contemplate asking about the peculiar way he reacted when I took his thumb into my mouth, but ultimately, I decide that I’d rather just enjoy the moments with him without questions like that. I can figure for myself anyways, figure that just as his lips against my rough skin were unnerving at first, the same can be said about mine on his hands. 

Once Azriel’s big day does arrive, I spend about an hour fussing over what to wear, settling on a nicer, fitted black blouse I bought with Mor way back, matched with a knee-length black skirt that I stuff it into, creating the illusion of a dress. With it, I wear my usual plain silver accessories, and Mor—set to pick me up and bring me to the party—uses a curling iron she brought to give me some soft neat curls, ones she draws back from my face with a hair-clip adorned with some sparkle.

All and all, I look fine, not that my looks are what makes me the most nervous, but the gift-giving making me all jittery. I really hope he likes it, I really,  _really_ do.

She’s borrowing Cass’ truck to come get me, not unusual,  but Mor’s driving is far from as smooth as Azriel’s, something I do my best to not show as I engage in calm conversation with the woman.

“Have you gotten him a gift?” She asks, and I grip the door as she goes a little too fast in a curve, not that I’d know, no license in sight, but it felt a _little_ too fast for comfort.

“Of course I have”

“Well, you don’t exactly have a present with you, how am I to know?” I smile.

“It’s already at the house” She looks curious then.

“Any chance you’d tell me what it is?” I shake my head. “Common! A hint at least!” I cast her a glance, a soft smile on my lips.

“Keep your eyes on the road” Is all I say, my refusal solid, and she grumbles a curse, but does keep her eyes a little more focused on the road.

We manage to get to the house alive, miraculously, and inside we’re greeted by a neat and part primped house. When I say primped, I mean that it looks like a part for a five year old, and I figure Cass and Rhys had a hand in the decorating, just to piss their brother off. It doesn’t necessarily look bad, its not that, because the  _Happy Birthday!_ festoon strung across the doorway to the living-room is a nice festoon, and the blue and black balloons aren’t out of place, but knowing Azriel, he’d probably rather not celebrate at all, or as simply as possible.

Ramona comes to greet us in the hallway, gives me a warm lovely hug once I’ve hung up my jacket, and I accept it with equal warmth for the woman.

“You look absolutely lovely today, Estelle” She says as she pulls back, and her eyes drift to Mor as she clears her throat. “As do you, Morrigan” There’s no ingenuity in there at all, and truly, Mor does look radiant in her red summer dress and golden jewelry.

“I always do” She muses, her confidence ever adamant. “Everyone else in the living room?” Ramona nods. “I’ll join them” And then she’s off, her gift held under her arm, and she’s greeted by a choir of greetings as she passes through that ornate doorway.

“I’ve hidden it away in my studio, in the changing room, you just sneak away while he’s about to open his presents and give it too him then, okay?” She says as she steps back from me. I nod.

“And the money?”

“The transaction worked without issue, don’t worry” I smile, then my eyes wander to the living room door again. 

“Is he down yet?” She shakes her head, laughs.

“No, he’s currently hiding in his room, he won’t come down until it’s cake time, unless you go ahead and coax him down” I hold that thought, consider what would be the kindest option.

“I’ll go see him” Is all I answer, no promises of getting him down here worded, and Ramona only nods and steps aside for me. I step towards the stairs, but halt halfway and look back at the woman. “Thank you, for helping me do this” She smiles. “Thank Rowan too” She nods.

“Anytime, Estelle, you need only ask” I look down, unsure what to say to that, but decide to just nod and continue on my way.

I knock on his door, and all I’m met with is a low, annoyed groan. I can’t help the smile. I push the door open, finding him laid on his bed, face first into his pillow. I laugh then.

“Don’t get me wrong, I totally agree with you, but really?” I step into his room and close the door behind me as his head shifts out of hiding to look at me. He seems about to say something, but pauses, takes a moment to just look me up and down.

“You’re beautiful” He breathes, and I look to the side, my cheeks instantly flushing.

“It’s just a blouse and a skirt, Az” I answer through my shy smile. He sits up, and I cast a look his way to take him in.

He wears a nice blue shirt, one I recognize from our dinner a while back, and a pair of fitted black jeans to go with it. His gloves are on, and a haircut he must have gotten just the day before has turned his hair to a length closer to Rhys’, shorter on the sides than it is on top, and he brushes a hand through that longer section as he stands and takes me in better.

“You’re beautiful in everything” He states calmly, stepping to me, his arms bringing me in against him as he gives my hair a closer look. “This is different though” A cautious hand reaches up and twirls a curl around his finger. “I like it” His eyes settle on mine then, and I smile through my blush.

“Mor insisted… It’s not something that’ll be a common sight” He smiles.

“I like your messy braid waves too, Estelle, don’t worry” I smile wider, let my hands smooth out the front of his shirt for a moment, fix his collar, then let them settle on his shoulders, my eyes lifting to his again.

“Happy Birthday Azzy” I say softly. “Or it’s on Monday, isn’t it?” He nods. “Happy early birthday then” He smiles, leans down, and I don’t hesitate to meet him half way, practically melting against him as his lips meet mine, his hand at my waist coiling around to my back, pressing me close, his other cupping my cheek.

“I came here with the mission to possibly coax you downstairs” I admit as we pull apart, though lingering in each other’s arms.

“You’ll fail” I laugh.

“Yes, I figured… Thought I’d just stay here with you until cake arrives instead, get some… Alone time” He looks content with that, guides me to his office chair and sits me down in his lap, straddling either side of him, and I couldn’t be more content either as I gently fix his hair, keeping it a balanced mix between messy and neat as he wants it.

“You saw the downstairs?” He asks, his own hands just running up and down my sides. I nod. “They do it every year, it’s hell” I smile, smile at his friends’ persistent will to torment him, a torment birthed form a place of care and love, a playful torment. Yet deep inside, there’s a dull ache I can’t quite whisk away.

“I think it’s a little extra to theme it as they do… But they do put in effort for you” His annoyance melts away at the meek tone I fade into, melts into a pained expression, one I make sure to kiss away. “I don’t mind my lack of birthday parties, Azzy, not anymore, don’t worry” I whisper as I rest my brow against his. He lets out a soft sigh.

“I’ll make sure they’re lovely from here on” He whispers, brushing a kiss to my cheek. “I’ll do what I can to make _every_ day lovely from here on” I smile.

“Every moment I spend with you is lovely, Azriel, you don’t have to work your ass off to make me happy”

“I’ll be damned if I don’t put in the effort you deserve, El” I let out a shaky laugh.

“I hope my efforts reach what you deserve too, Azzy” He kisses me, softly and sweetly.

“Don’t ever worry about that” I will, I’ll always strive to be better to him, but it is reassuring to a degree, that I’m enough as I am now too.

“I love you” The words fall so freely from my lips, no question in my mind that they’re true.

“I love you” He mirrors, and I can’t resist the tug to those lips, can’t bare to part from them for a long while, and Azriel doesn’t seem to mind.

His phone buzzes though, snapping us out of it, and he sighs as he gives the message a look.

“Cake time…” He mumbles, looking back at me and nudging me to get up, which I do after some careful maneuvering, granting myself a few moments to compose myself while Azriel seemingly mentally prepares himself. 

Then he takes my hand, and together, we head downstairs, met by cheers and birthday wishes by the entire circle as we reach the stairs, half of them blowing those blow out toot things I can’t remember the name of right now, and Azriel looks about ready to fade into the shadows and vanish.

He holds onto my hand though, all the way to the kitchen table, where everyone crams themselves together to fit around it. Everyone’s thrilled when the cake arrives, adorned with a fabulous set of candles depicting the number twenty four, and Azriel eyes the two candles with a mix of amusement and disappointment, yet a clear lack of surprise.

_Blow it out_ , quickly becomes a tribal chant, and with a sigh of defeat, Azriel blows out the dual candles, and the circle cheers. Nesta and Amern remain civilized along with Rowan and Ramona, but otherwise the chaos is pretty mutual. It’s crazy to witness.

I wonder if all of their birthday parties are like this, or they do this just to annoy Azriel. None of them have had their yet as far as I’m aware, so I’ll just have to wait and see. I  do  think Elain might have had hers this spring, but wanted a small get together with her  closer family rather than something big, but I wasn’t really in the loop all the time at that point. Nesta and Amren could have had theirs too, and I’m just clueless about it, who knows with those two.

After Azriel gets his piece, Azriel puts a piece onto my plate before sending it off for everyone else to devour, and I thank him with a soft smile before bringing a portion onto my spoon and having a taste of this seemingly homemade cake.

It’s good, chocolate with some berry filling and decorated with a coat of whipped cream in pretty patterns. I’ve never had anything like it, and find I enjoy it quite a lot.  Azriel seems to enjoy my reaction, a he casts me a grin as I devour a couple more spoonfuls, and I just glare at him to leave me alone and keep eating.

After eating copious amounts of cake and pastries, the party is moved to the living room, where a pile of presents awaits. Azriel eyes these gifts with what looks like dread, and I get why, all eyes bound to be on him and his reactions to whatever lies behind those colorfully wrapped boxes. I almost feel bad for adding to that anxiety of his.

“I’ll be right back” I whisper before attempting to slip out of his grasp, his hand holding on to mine as we enter the living room. He tightens that grip though, giving me a look that simply begs me to stay.

“Where are you going?” I give him an apologetic smile.

“I just need to use the restroom, I’ll be back before you know it” I steal a quick peck in the chaos of everyone getting to their seats, some fighting over who goes where. “You can start without me, it’s okay” He doesn’t look like he agrees, but lets me go, and I share one last look with Ramona before I slip away towards her studio.

I find it where she said it’d be, and I laugh at the obvious packaging. He’ll know what it is the moment I bring it through the door. Either way, I carefully lift it into my arms, find it heavier than I thought, though assume it’s because of the case. It’s a little awkward to carry it through the halls, but I manage, hear Azriel well on his way opening gifts once I near the living room, thanking Feyre for a painting she’s made for him by the sounds of things.

Azriel pauses mid picking where he sits in the center of everyone’s attention, pauses and looks to me as I stumble through the doorway, the package just a few heads shorter than me, making it a little inconvenient. Seeing Azriel’s clear shock, everyone else turns to look at me, granting me the unnerving spotlight, and I gulp and press out a tight smile as I hold Azriel’s gift.

“Come get it before I actually drop this thing” I plead with him, feeling my grip slipping, the silky black wrapping not granting much to hold on to.

He stands, shakily, seems unable to grasp what I’m holding, even if the shape leaves nothing to guess about. Everyone else, say Rowan and Ramona, look equally stunned. He gets to me though, carefully takes the present from my hands, eyes like globes as he looks down at it.

“This…”

“Is from me, Ramona and Rowan” I clarify. 

“She came up with it” Ramona adds from her seat, and Azriel looks between the three of us for a moment before looking back down at his gift.

“If this is what I think it is…” I smile.

“You’ll put it to good use, I hope” He looks back at me then, lets out a laugh of disbelief. “Open it” I encourage him, and he takes my hand and brings me to the couch with him, sits me down beside him. Then he carefully tears into it, everyone watching on in utter silence as he slowly peals back the paper, revealing the guitar case piece by piece.

It’s a sturdy one, built for travel and resistant to water, all while still discreet and classy. Once all paper is gone form it, Azriel shakily opens the case, revealing the black guitar within, detailed with matte silvers.

“Are you kidding me…” He breathes, a gloved hand running over the shiny black surface of the front.

“Nope” I say with a smile I can’t get rid of, reaches ear to ear at this point. He closes the case, his gaze snapping to me, and for just a second I feel fear drain all warmth from my body.

“How much did this cost you” I let out a relieved breath through my nose.

“Don’t worry about it” I pat his shoulder, but he doesn’t look convinced. 

Even so, he puts the guitar in my possession for the time being as he goes on opening the rest of the gifts. Once he’s done, the gang tries to make him play, but Azriel adamantly refuses, to everyone’s dismay, and the torch is passed on to me.

“I have no idea how to play guitar” I say in my defense. “I can probably tune it, but I can’t play anything astonishing” Azriel leans in close to my ear then.

“Could you tune it? For no particular reason at all” I grin.

“Give me a minute” I bring it to the piano while conversation easily flows between everyone around me, carefully place the guitar in my hands and try to remember what Filip showed me that one time about the strings and their names, what to go off when tuning.

It’s decently tuned as is, so it isn’t that difficult to tweak it, but the chatter makes it hard to hear all that well. The task is completed soon enough though.

Rowan and Ramona leave once the board games get pulled out, more like evacuate themselves from the vicinity, and for good reason. I put the guitar someplace safe as we  begin, then let myself delve into the madness, a madness that goes on well into the hour, and leaves my cheeks hurting from laughter.

  
  


Õ

  
  


“You have to tell me how much you spent on this thing” Azriel demands once we finally return to his room for the night, the sun already peaking over the horizon again. I hardly remember it going down.

“I’ll survive the month, that’s all you need to know” He casts me a disapproving look as he sets the case down on his desk, the section dedicated for papers and whatever he happens to need space for.

“I’m serious”

“So am I, I split the cost with Rowan and Ramona for a reason, it’s okay” He sighs and brings me in for a hug, burying his face into the top of my head.

“You’re not hearing me play for a while yet” He mumbles, and I smile.

“Nor are you hearing me sing until you do” He chuckles.

“I’ll practice as much as I can… I’ll do it” Despite his hands.

“I believe in you” I yawn against his chest, and he carefully leans me back in his arms.

“Bed?” I nod, my eyes stinging with sleep. He reaches around for my hair then, undoes my hair-clip and lets my curls fall freely, what remains of them. Again, he plays with them, something he hasn’t been able to resist doing all evening, twirling them around his fingers like it’s the most fun thing in the world

“Az” He snaps out of it and looks to me, grins and picks me up into his arms, carrying me off to bed, where the rest of my attire slowly peals away along with his, and sleep soon consumes us both.


	26. Silence

Another evening spent with the band leaves me strumming on Filip’s guitar while they work on the drums for our new little project. Getting Azriel his guitar made me curious how it worked, and while I don’t want to snatch his  away , Filip told me I could give  his a try whenever, so I’m taking him up on that offer.

I haven’t figured out chords yet, but I’m working out some common simple melodies with these inexperienced hands of mine, and It’s a relaxing way to avoid the chaos that is discussion time with the gang.

They’re lovely, just as the circle is, but still not being on speaking terms with these people just leaves me on the sidelines in those kinds of discussions by nature. They ask me things directly sometimes, and I answer with notes, but I don’t feel a need to be constantly a part of the friendly arguing.

“I could teach you to play sometime, you know, you just gotta ask” Filip says, sliding down to the floor with me, his sky-blue eyes as kind and friendly as always. “Or toss a notebook at my head, whichever you prefer” I smile, because I might have thrown my notebook at them a couple times now, when they didn't notice my notes and I got impatient. It’s all fun and games. And I didn’t _aim_ for his head that one time, he moved right when I tossed it, I can’t be blamed for that.

_Later_ . I sign for him, content to just play like this right now.

_Any time._ I don’t know why, but this guy decided to learn the most basic phrases of sign language.  It’s nice to not need notes, but the conversations I have with him are short and simple at best. It’s hilarious to watch him struggle to understand sometimes though.

“Filip, we’re doing electric guitar now, get creative” This snatches his attention from me, and I watch him psyche himself up for it, get into the head-space.

“I am _so_ ready to rock!” He exclaims as he stands, doing some air-guitar riffs that has Jellal calling him a weirdo, Sarah laughing at him, and Julia smiling in silence along with me.

They were nothing like this in school—I realize—this let lose and crazy. I guess they could have been a little unsure around me to begin with, and I’m glad they feel more comfortable with me now. The feeling is fairly mutual.

I wouldn’t say I trust them, not to the extent I trust the circle, but… They’re nice, I like their company.

Filip proceeds to rock, practically blows our eardrums out before we get the amplifier set to a more respectable volume, and from there he gets to work on a killer solo.

A few tries later, he seems to have settled on something he likes and everyone else agrees on, so he works on through it over and over to get it down in his head, and onto a music sheet eventually, managing to get it into the program from memory alone once it’s Jellal’s turn to do some keyboarding.

I watch as he does it, as he listens through and  tweaks it as he goes, watching on over his shoulder. I can do that too, play music from mind, but to work this program is still beyond me. 

“I hope what I’m doing is coming through too right now, Fil” Jellal calls, and I look his way, happen to meet his brown eyes for just a second before he looks away.

“Don’t worry you grump, I’ve got another tab open for you” This seems to assure him, as he keeps on playing and experimenting.

“I’m back with the snacks” Julia’s soft words reach us, and Sarah immediately bolts from her seat on the beanbag she’s brought here.

“Perfect! I was starting to get hungry” Sarah says, helping Julia with some of the bags as they go to place them on one of the clear desks. Sharing Sarah’s sentiment, I go to see what Julia thought to bring, casting her a questioning look before I do. Her golden eyes sparkle as she smiles and nods for me to go ahead, and I quickly find an apple that calls my name, a healthier option than the bag if chips Sarah snatches, even if I feel the gentle addiction to sour cream that I’ve developed tugging at me to steal some from her.

I stick to my apple for the time being, tug out my phone and find a message from Azzy.

_Just a couple weeks ‘til the concert._ I look at the date on my phone and feel my excitement spike as I realize it.

_Did you have to remind me? I was having a calm relaxing time down here, now I’m not sure I can sit still._

_Gotta work on your composure, you can’t be bouncing around during the concert, El._ I smile. He has a point.

_You’ll hold me down, won’t you? Should I be unable._

_With pleasure._ I practically hear the suggestive tone of his voice.

He’s been more daring in that sense, and I can’t deny that I enjoy his blatancy. I feel like it’s normalizing it for me, making my mind more accustomed to it in my everyday life, overwriting the bad experiences little by little. The actual acts are still delicate matters, the couple times we’ve done it, and I think it’ll stay that way, but he being more verbal about his wants helps me accept my own.

_Let’s at least keep it PG, Azzy, common._ He just answers with a devil emote.

_Can I stick around tonight?_

_Is that even a question? Yes._ I toss the apple core into the trashcan and carry on.

_When should I pick you up?_ I look Sarah’s way.

_Sarah insist she drive me tonight, I’ve been avoiding it for too long. You can head over and warm up the bed for us for now, if you want._ I note that Sarah’s got her bag of chips unguarded while she taps away at her phone as well, and I sneakily reach over for it.

As silently as I can, I tug it to me instead and stuff my face with a handful of the crunchy goodness.

_Don’t be too long._ He’s in a mood alright, this’ll be an interesting evening.

“Hey! My chips!” My head snaps to Sarah, and a grin instantly spreads across my face as I snatch the bag and tug it to my chest. “Oh no you don’t, give me it!” She rolls off her beanbag and begins her chase.

I jump to my feet and try to get away, but I’m much shorter than Sarah, and slower by default still despite my workouts, and she quickly catches up. Not that she’d had to try  hard to catch me, because the moment her hand lands at my shoulder, my left shoulder, I freeze.  She tugs me around to face her, is about to snatch the bag back when she sees my face. I remember to shove her off then, drop the bag and lay a defensive hand over my shoulder, my mind racing with panic, my heart pulsing in my ears.

I bolt out the studio before she has the chance to speak, confused by my sudden change in mood, but I hear her call for me to stop as I make my way through the dark halls towards the cool evening air outside.

I sit down on a gravel box just before the staircase down, breathe in the cool air and try to just calm down. I’ve grown so used to having everyone know not to touch—say for Azriel—that I’ve forgotten what it’s like when they do. A part of me thought I was past it, that I’d gotten so used to it that I wouldn’t react anymore, but… Clearly, I was wrong.

A part of me wants to call Azriel, sure his voice will soothe me, calm me down, but that means I have to tell him what’s wrong, and they could come out of that door any time when they gather the courage to confront me—if they do—so Instead, I scroll up through our long message chain and find his first drunken video messages, bringing my speaker to my ear to listen to his slurred, though lovely voice.

It has an instantly calming effect that just washes over me, and I sigh as my mind settles down again. I keep listening to them though.

“Estelle” I’m not sure how long it’s been, but I set down my phone, turn it off and face him. Filip looks confused, and worried. “Are you okay?” I nod. Of course they sent him, he knows some sign-language after all. Considerate to try and make things more convenient for me.

_Fine_ . I sign, stuffing my phone in my pocket.  He doesn’t look convinced, so he ascends the stairs to get to my level.

“What happened?” I look away, out across the empty, dimming school courtyard. I have to tell them something, or they might do it again, and I’m clearly not ready for it. I lift my hands before me, think about what to sign to make sure he understand, then face him where he stands at the top of the stairs.

_Don’t touch shoulder._ I sign it slowly and clearly, but he seems only more confused by it.

“Why?” I sigh.

_Hurt._ His worry only seems amplified by that.  _Fine but no touch._ He looks across the courtyard then too.

“I’ll… Tell them… Should we drive you home soon?” I think about it, think about Azriel waiting at home for me, think about curling up in his arms and being safe, and I nod. “Alright, common, let’s get our things” So I hop down from the box and follow him down, try not acknowledge their worried looks as Filip explains, and spend the ride home looking out the window once I’ve given my address.

“We’ll text when we plan to be down there again, okay?” Sarah says as I step out, her windshield lowered to talk. I answer with a nod. “Sorry about… You know” She looks to the side, then reaches for something in the car. “Here, have this” The bag of chips. I stare at it for a second as she reaches it out through the window. “Peace offering” I smile, take it form her hands.

_Thank you._ She smiles.

“Even I get that one” She says with a smile. _Take care_. She signs then, surprising me, which seems to show, as she laughs. “Goodnight Ellie” I wave at them all and head for my apartment.

A weight of exhaustion pushes down on me once I pass through the doors and get my things in order. As I told him, Azriel is waiting in bed, treating himself to a book while he waits. At first, he eyes me with rather flirtatious eyes, but once he sees the spent look on my face, it shifts into pure worry.

“Are you alright?” He asks, sitting up and moving to stand.

“Fine” I say meekly, setting the bag of chips down on my dresser for now, and the mostly clotheless Azriel comes and wraps me into his arms from behind.

“What happened?” I lean back into him, close my eyes and just embrace the feel of safety.

“Just… Sarah touched my shoulder… I… Didn’t think I’d react as poorly as I did, but… I did”

“Have you… Told them not to?”

“I have now, it won’t happen again” His hand trails up to that rough patch of skin, his neck bending to let his lips trace it. I lean back into the crook of his neck as he works his wonderful touch into my still shaken body.

“Wanna snuggle?” He murmurs against my skin.

“Again with the stupid questions” I laugh, and he chuckles with me. “Of course I want to snuggle” He lifts me from behind then, brings me to bed with him and holds me close, spooning me tonight rather than keeping me on his chest, even if it leaves him cramped against the wall. “I still need the bathroom”

“Let’s just snuggle a little while first” He purrs, burying me beneath the preheated blanket. I let him have this, let him brush his hands though my hair and down my cheek. When his fingers brush the edge of my mouth though, that question I’ve been meaning to ask resurfaces.

“Azzy” He hums in acknowledgment. “Why did you get so… Flustered when I licked your thumb a while back?” He doesn’t say anything for a while.

“It’s… I’ve been with women before you, but I… I never took my gloves off then, ever. I’ve never touched a woman with my hands before, not like _that_ ” He sighs. “I was surprised when you did that because no one’s ever done it before, I didn’t know what I was supposed to feel” I take the hand that rests above my stomach and bring it up to my lips, give it a long, lasting kiss, and I feel him shudder behind me.

“I’ll be sure to give these love more often, then” I murmur as I settle it back at my side.

“Alright…” He sounds unsure what to feel, but ultimately okay about it, which I’m glad for.

I escape his snuggles eventually to get ready for bed, but rejoin him soon enough, remembering to set my alarm for work tomorrow before allowing myself to just relax in his arms. 

  
  


Õ

  
  


I’m munching on the chips Sarah gave me the next day after work, Azriel trying to snatch some for himself while we watch the second movie in this new cinematic universe, and I give him some now and again, just to be nice.

“They’re learning sign language to speak with me” I mention as we sit there, snuggled together on the couch, even if my apartment is warm in the summer heat.

“Really?” I nod.

“That’s more than the circle did” Azriel brushes a kiss to my brow.

“They didn’t get to a point where they had to, I translated everything” I guess he’s right. “Amren understands some words too because she’s perceptive and freakishly good at languages” I sigh.

“I guess… I think it’s sweet of them, to try and make things easier for me, but… I feel bad for making them have to learn at all…”

“You want to tell them” I snuggle closer.

“I don’t know… Maybe tell them I speak at some point, but nothing more… I don’t need more people knowing my messed up history” 

“It’s up to you, I don’t think they’d be mad about it, if you explain your reasoning” I sigh again.

“I hope you’re right…” My frown is turned upside down when I remember what Sarah said a while back. “Sarah thinks we’re bipolar by the way” He snorts.

“What?”

“Because of our masks of monsters, she’s seen mine slip on and off over and over so much she’s starting to get genuinely concerned” He all out laughs, and the sound is lovely to my ears.

“I can imagine it’s strange, to watch it from afar and not be aware” I nod.

“I won’t tell her, we don’t need the truth spreading like that, she can think us bipolar all she wants” Azriel shifts then, in a way that I slide down onto my back, and he slides right after.

“Who knows, maybe we are” He purrs, kissing down my jaw in soft sweeps.

“ _You_ certainly have very fluctuating moods” He laughs again.

“There are just moments when I simply can’t resist you, like when you’re adhering to my terrible sense of humor” He continues his soft trail down to my neck.

“So always?”

“Pretty much” I laugh, though it dies out as his lips close around my neck, dies out into a pleasant sigh.

“I’m yours” I breathe. “You don’t have to resist” He lets out what almost sounds like a growl, and his teeth gently dig into my skin, and a I sigh some more.

“I do, there are times when I want you and you don’t, which is totally fine” He speaks the last part with more clarity. “You might be mine, but I’ll only take you if you tell me to, and only take it as far as you let me” I smile, reach one of my hands up into his hair and nudge him up, which he complies with.

“Can you work with the couch?” He grins.

“I can” I bite my lip, considering my options, the fire in me just about kindling at his touch, making me all warm and lovely, making my pulse stronger. “Your neighbors wouldn’t bother you?” I look to the side.

“Not if you keep me quiet” That grin turns wolfish.

“How far are we talking?” I shoot him the darkest, most seductive eyes I can muster.

“You might need to go get something” Fire sparks in his otherwise cool gaze, a fire that brightens mine.

“Give me a minute” And he’s off me, leaves to get the thing while I keep myself in the right mindset on my own, imagining him in all his glory, realizing I want that glory above me again today, that I liked what we did last time, but ultimately want to be pinned beneath him in safety, and not terror, need that worked on, am excited to have that worked on. Very much so.

He returns, is on me in a heartbeat, kissing me with hunger and need that I mirror and return to him, do so with every tug at his clothes as much as I do with the motions of my lips against his.

The movie is forgotten as clothes hit the floor, works to drown out the sounds Azriel doesn’t quite catch as he expertly turns me molten before him with that experienced mouth of his, truly making the couch work once we get to it, leaving me moaning his name into his mouth as he tries his best to catch them, all while leaving no room for ingrained fear as we join, only leaving room for the endless desire for more.


	27. Cookies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The days are counting down

One might say this summer passed too quickly, and I agree to am extent, but with the concert this weekend, I couldn’t care less about school starting the week after. I’ve spent my time to the fullest, filled it with fun and good times, and I’m happy with what I’ve had time for these months together with my friends. 

There has been downs, of course, as there always is between the good, finding my sister one of them. I still can’t decide whether I want to get in contact or not, or if I’m fine as I am now. I’ve decided not to make any decisions until I’m sure I won’t just be enraged, a fair choice, I’d wager.

Either way, I’m choosing to ignore her existence completely right now to focus on the good to come this weekend, something I am beyond excited for, even if I don’t physically show it all the time.

Azriel gets to see my excitement every evening once we get home and is forced to spend hours listening to my excited rambling about how good these people are said to be, and all the small details I haven’t been able to help myself from looking up. He listens valiantly to my endless chatter, something I appraise him for putting up with, but he always answers by saying I could talk his ear off whenever I please.

Thursday afternoon, I replace my will for conversation with a need to rectify my sad attempt at baking cookies from months back, and Azriel is all for it.

“These ones sound good” He says, showing me a recipe he found on the internet. Chocolate chip cookies do indeed sound tasty.

“Let’s go for it… Do we even have all this” I take his phone and scroll through the ingredients, realizing I lack the chocolate, and some other finer ingredients. “I do not” I conclude, setting his phone aside to get the ingredients I do have.

“I could drive down to the store and get what we need” I nod, already on my way to write a note with all we need.

“I’ll prep the kitchen in the meantime” I say as I hand over the note. Turning on the oven and setting it to the right temperature.

“This all?” I continue getting the things I know I have out.

“I think so, I’ll text you if I realize we need something more” He nods, folding the note and stuffing it in his pocket.

“I’ll be back in a bit”

“Be safe” He plants a kiss to my cheek.

“When am I not?” I smile, turn to give him a proper kiss before I let him be on his way.

And I prepare the things we need, get my hands on a whisk, a couple bowls,  a baking tray, and make sure we actually have all the ingredients, say those Azriel is on his way to get.

All seems to be in order, so I start doing the basic things like slowly melting the butter, scared to burn it, and once done, I let it cool as instructed, careful about the recipe this time.

I get a text then, from Mor, which surprises me a little.

_Mind if I stop by tomorrow afternoon?_

_Not at all, say, what’s up?_

_Nothing, just wanna chat._ After a moment, she types some more.  _Will Azriel be over?_ I think about it.

_Not if I ask him not to, should I?_

_Preferably._

_I’ll tell him we’ll have a girls night then, or evening._ She sends me a thumbs up, and I return to the baking.

I start mixing the flour and salt in another bowl while I wait for Azzy to come with the vanilla sugar thingy and the other important things, and while I’m mindlessly stirring just to have something to do, he delivers, and we get on with it.

I’m careful when I measure, make sure to follow every step to the smallest detail, though let Azriel chop up the chocolate in respectable chunks while I do, to divide the load.  Soon enough, the dough has been made, and after some careful placements on the baking tray, the cookies are frying in the oven, and I already feel like I’ve done better than last time. Now I just gotta make sure they don’t burn.

“I’d call this a victory” Azriel states as he brings me in for a backwards hug while I stand before the oven, keeping my eyes strictly on the cookies.

“The battle’s not over yet, Azzy, we gotta get them out before they burn”

“True…” He snuggles into the top of my head, and I intertwine my hands with his atop my stomach.

“Mor’s coming over tomorrow for a chat” I say calmly, closing my eyes for just a moment to relax.

“Convenient she always comes when there are cookies in the mix” I laugh.

“She has great timing, doesn’t she…” I sigh. “She’d like a girls evening, just us two” He hums.

“I’ll be home then”

“I’d ask you to come over later, but we need to get dressed for the occasion Saturday morning, don’t we” He nods.

“I’ve arranged for Ramona to drive us to the orchestra house, I’ll text you when we’re on the way” I nod, fine with that. I open an eye to cast the cookies a glance, but they currently look fine.

“I’m really looking forward to it”

“As you’ve told me plenty of times now” I laugh.

“Well, I want you to know how much I appreciate you getting those tickets” His face slips down, bites hold of my ear for just a moment before slipping down just bellow it, to the edge of my jaw.

“I know you do, and you can repeat yourself however often you want, I’m glad you’re excited” He plants a nipping kiss to the joint of my jaw. “I love getting you excited” My cheeks heat at the darkness in his voice, and only heat further as I feel his hand slip lower, his thumb massaging the inside of my thigh. “I love that you don’t wall it off from me” His hand brushes up, and my breathing quivers at the soft touch. “That you get so overwhelmed that you don’t know what to do with it” I let out a breathy laugh as his lips close around my pulse.

“I love that you’re not scared to show your wants anymore, Azzy…” I breathe, nudging back against the physical evidence of that want of his, eliciting a low groan form his throat. “I love when you’re sweet and gentle with me, but I’m glad you’re no longer scared that I’ll pack up and run at any hint of sexual intent” He seems to almost purr.

“You told me to erase him, and I’m doing my best to do so… You’re the reason I can though, because of your reciprocation” I smile. “I wouldn’t be this forward if I didn’t know you were into it” Another nip, a flick of his tongue, a push to his thumb, it all has me melting on the inside.

“And how do you know I’m not scared shitless?”

“I can hear the difference, trust me” I smile wider. “And this? You have no problem with this. As long as I’m not in you, you manage fine” True. “And I intend to make sure you enjoy all aspects of sex, experience it to the fullest”

“Is teasing me an aspect of sex?” He chuckles.

“It’s the best part of all” His mouth trails up to my ear. “Slowly setting you aflame and watching you struggle to keep hold of your composure never ceases to thrill me” I shudder at his tone, how is hot breath brushes against my ear. “One day I’ll do it ‘til you beg”

“Sounds kinky, as Mor would put it” He laughs, a dark, lovely laugh that does things to me.

“You’re free to make me beg whenever, Angel” I take a deep breath, though my eyes shoot open as I scent the hints of charred cookies.

“Shit!” I nudge him back and crouch down before the oven, find the hints of darkened edges to my precious cookies, and I quickly turn the oven off and reach for the oven mitts to get them out of there.

Azriel keeps at a distance as I do, lets me save the situation before approaching me again, pulling me in against his chest as I breathe a sigh of relief.

“Way to ruin a moment” I state with a laugh, and Azriel answers with a laugh of his own.

“I can continue where we left off” His hand slips between my legs, palms me through my tights, and I gasp. “We can’t taste the cookies until they cool, after all” I bite down on my lip, pant through my nose as I work to stay civilized.

I never thought I’d have to fight to keeps my wits about me, but Azriel just has a way of unraveling me, and he sure as hell enjoys doing it.

“How about you help clean the mess we’ve made first?” He sighs, but lets me go after a particularly rough kiss to my lower neck, leaving me dazed for a moment before I snap myself out of it and move to get the flour off the counter and all that fun stuff that I totally wouldn’t rather leave for later in favor of getting comfy in bed with Azzy, or the couch, either or.

We have a taste of the cookies eventually, are both pleased by the results, be some a little burnt, and we celebrate our little victory by spending some quality time in bed together before the lateness of the hour grows clear, and the two of us decide to head to sleep.

  
  


Õ

  
  


“So, what did you want to chat about?” I ask as Mor sits down and teats herself to a cookie.

“Well, you know, just girl-talk” She says before biting into it. As she chews, she gives it a rather appreciative look, then shifts it to me. “Did you make these?” I nod.

“Just last night” She smiles.

“They’re great” She stuffs her face with the rest of it.

“A vast improvement from last time, I’d say” She laughs.

“Those were fine, El, like, seriously” I brush her off and treat myself to a cookie as well. “But yeah, girl talk” She sips on her glass of water, the best I could offer her. “I… Honestly just want to know how you’re doing, I haven’t had time to just sit down and talk to you for a while now, not alone. I’ve felt terrible for it, especially since we talked about having ladies nights and all that… It just… I haven’t had time, things at home have been rough, and I’ve been trying to distract myself by surrounding myself with the circle and ignoring all my problems… I’m sorry” I smile softly.

“Don’t apologize, I haven’t exactly asked you to stop by either, I… I’ve been caught up in work and been doing my best to make the most of my time after it… With the circle or not… It’s fine” She smiles too then, seems relieved to hear my words. 

“How have things been? Between the times I’ve seen you” I look to the side, smile as think of it all.

“They’ve been good… Really good… Exhausting, but good… But also bad, but mostly good” Worry sparks in Mor’s rich brown eyes then.

“Bad how?” I shake my head.

“It’s nothing, nothing I should get hung up on, tomorrow’s too good of a day to get gloomy now” She raises a brow. “Azzy and I are going on a concert tomorrow” Realization flickers to life in her eyes.

“Oh! Right! I almost forgot! He mentioned you were going a while back, sounds like a fancy date”

“It is… I was mad he spent so much money on me at first, but now I’ve made us practically even” Mor laughs.

“Yeah, that guitar was really something, I didn’t even know he played”

“It was years ago, before he and Rhys even became friends, I’m not surprised” She leans her head against her hand as she looks to me.

“Everything going good for you two?” I nod.

“Great” Her look grows mischievous then. 

“Still not facing the demon?” I flush red instantly.

“I… Ehm…” She simply beams as she sits up straight.

“You two’ve done it, haven’t you!” I look away as she starts squealing. “Okay, you’ve _got_ to tell me all about it” I try to melt down in my seat, but ultimately fail, Mor’s eyes too persistently set on me.

“It… Was a while ago… I’m not comfortable giving you details…” Mor looks disappointed, but seems inclined to respect my wishes.

“Was it good, at least?” I nod slowly.

“Yeah, yeah it was…” I stuff my face with another cookie. “Things have continued to be good ever since… We… Have been working on normalizing the subject…” Mor looks curious then, and a little pained by the fact that I’d have to be doing something like it at all. “It’s a process, but it’s getting easier every day, pretty much…”

“I’m glad… I can’t imagine what it’s like to fight that kind of trauma… You’re strong, stronger than we give you credit for” I smile, dare meet her eyes again.

“Az needs some credit too… He’s the reason I started fighting to begin with… Which sounds _very_ cheesy” Mor laughs, and I do so along with her, finding it nice to just let lose around her, talk about the things I’d usually keep to myself, finding it nice to let out.

“Shut up, it’s romantic” She pushes through her laughter. “You both care a lot about each other, no need to hide that from the rest of us” 

“Well… We both just prefer privacy, you know…”

“Yeah, I get it, don’t worry, what’s said here stays here” I smile, glad to have her as a friend. “What’s your views on school starting again?” I shrug.

“It’ll be exhausting as ever, but… I’ll be one year closer to free, I can’t complain”

“Free?”

“Once I graduate, I’ll be fully free to do what I want with my life, no more contracts with the government to uphold, for better or worse… I look forward to it” Mor smiles.

“Will you and Azzy move in together, you think?” I look to the side. We’ve juggled the idea at times, that he could live here permanently, but we’ve both agreed to save up money for the future instead of rushing into it.

“Possibly, eventually” I sigh. “It’d be nice, I won’t deny that…”

“Yeah… I could imagine…” She looks to the clock on my wall. “I should head home in about an hour, anything clothing related for tomorrow I could give a hand in before I leave?” That perks my interest.

“No I’m good, I think, I’ll wear the black dress, it’s my safest option” She seems to envision it.

“Yeah, it’s a nice one, fits the occasion” I totally agree. “How about I tell you about this cute girl I keep seeing at Rita’s then? I need a second opinion about how to go about things” I settle down for more conversation, prepared to listen to all she has to say.

“Sure, go ahead”


	28. The Concert part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Towards the moment it all falls down

Excited doesn’t quite fit the feeling I’m feeling as I stand before the bathroom mirror, giving my half braided hairdo a final look to make sure it’s the way I want it. It looks fine, but I feel like I’ll look chap no matter what I do about my appearance. So no, excited doesn’t quite fit the description. Terrified needs to be added into the mix, and nervous, because this is a fancy concert, very much so, and I have nothing even remotely expensive to appear as if I fit in amongst the crowd

My phone buzzing snaps me out of my fuzzing, and I find Azriel’s _on our way_ text waiting for me on my lock-screen. It sends me pacing my apartment, absolutely not talking to myself as I try to convince myself that everything will be fine, that I look fine, that we’ll be fine.

It’ll all be fine.

I take a deep breath and stop my pacing, look at my reflection in the TV and give it a stern look.

“It’s just a concert, you’re not even playing, you’re just listening, stop being an idiot” I get another message them, and I quickly reach for my phone, left on the coffee-table.

My blood freezes once I read the lock screen.

 _We_ _see you_ _._ I simply stare at it for a solid couple seconds.

Then there’s a knock at my door, and I quickly screenshot it and head to open it for him, looking out through the peephole before I do, indeed finding a very fancy Azriel on the other side.

The sight of it is enough to distract myself from the dread seeping into my blood, and as I open the door and behold him in his fancy white shirt and fitted tux pants—and even lightly waxed hair—it gets completely shoved into the back of my mind and practically forgotten.

“You look… You look great!” I smile, and I watch his cheeks dust a darker shade. “Handsome” I rectify my poor compliment, my tone a low purr, and he laughs.

“Thank you… You look gorgeous” I smile, look down, and realize I should get my flats on.

“You’ve seen me in this plenty of times before” I point out as I tug them on.

“Doesn’t make you less beautiful” I straighten then, cast him a shy grin, then let my eyes fall to his gloved hand as he reaches it out for me to take. “My lady” I snort, reach for my thin black summer jacket and the keys on the wall, then take his hand, letting him guide me out into the hall, where I take care to lock the door behind me before letting him guide me down the fleet of stairs.

He opens the door for me like a true gentleman, at which I also proceed to snort, but soon enough we’re on our way to the concert, Ramona telling us to have fun and enjoy ourselves this last weekend before school resumes.

I fully agree with her.

She parks a couple streets away, as there is a distinct lack of parking spots in the area, but Azzy and I make do, heading for the concert house hand in hand, my step lined with a mix of nervous excitement and fearful hesitation. Holding his hand helps though, makes me feel a little more confident about this, that it’ll all be alright.

It’ll be nice, I’ll enjoy the music with him, nothing else, I won’t let my stupid self-consciousnesses get in the way of our evening.

Azriel handles the talking once we enter the building, handing over the tickets and making sure we get to our designated seats, and I’m glad for it, because I’m completely preoccupied with taking in the extravagance of this place, the details in the architecture that Mor could probably tell me more about, and the stage, gosh the stage is _huge_ , lined with seat after seat and note-stands for at least a hundred people to share. And even then there’s room before it, plenty of space for whatever this concert house might wish to show.

I’ve never seen such a grand building in my life, not the interior of one.

Azriel watches me take it all in with that amusement he always has when I openly show my amazement with new things, but I can’t be bothered to be annoyed with him. I just curl my arm around his once we get seated near the center front and let my head rest atop his shoulder, the people around us forgotten as I just take in this moment with him.

His answer is a soft kiss to my brow, something which only makes me smile wider than I already was.

The silence that befalls the low murmur of the hall once the orchestra steps onto stage is instant and full of anticipation, my heart feeling practically ready to burst as they prepare to play. The only warning we get before the music begins is the conductor announcing the piece they are to play, and then the hall fills with music.

It’s the music of my dreams, the music I’ve always sought to recreate for myself, but never quite achieved. It’s the kind that fills you with all kinds of feelings, from joy to pain as you drift off into an imaginary world in which the music tells a story, a story your mind constructs and builds for you to interpret as you may. No mind will find it quite the same, and no mind will ever be more right than the other, the beauty of wordless music, the fact you craft the story yourself.

It’s breathtaking, has me paralyzed in my seat as I let the tones resonate inside me, let me feel them, understand them in that strange way I just can’t explain, in that way you just do when you truly immerse yourself into the music.

It ends too soon, the piece coming to an abrupt, crescendo of an end, and it snaps me out of it, enough so to remember to clap along with the rest of the crowd, and stop once they all do, the orchestra preparing for the next song already.

I dare a look at Azriel then, find his eyes closed, his features hard to read, because he seems gone in his own head, much like I was. He snaps out of it once I give his arm a squeeze, and he smiles, looks almost as glad to be here—to be witnessing this—as I am. I smile too, though focus my gaze back to the stage once I hear the next song be announced, and the magic continues.

An unknown time into the concert, the lights are dimmed, and a single man steps forward, seating himself at the piano that the stage workers roll onto the center of the stage, and the spotlights center themselves on it as he seems to prepare himself.

I recognize the song the moment he plays the first couple notes. It’s a song I play frequently, a song I lose myself to when all feels hopeless, a song I haven’t had to turn to in so long now. I can’t even get _close_ to the perfection with which he plays it, could never find the fluid flow he does, even with the heavy emotion he puts into every note. It has me utterly mesmerized.

One day, that’s what I want, I want to perform and play for all the world to hear, I want to mesmerize a crowd so thoroughly they’re nearly hypnotized.

I want to achieve this level of musical perfection, and even if I never will, I want to try, I want to give it a shot somehow.

I realize I’m crying a little when Azriel’s gloved hand reaches up to wipe it away, and I snap out of it then—the hypnosis—and look to him, smile, smile so wide it’s brightness rivals the stars, because if it wasn’t physically impossible, I’d be glowing, I’d be glowing with joy, shining brightly enough to ward off all darkness.

And all because of him, all because of his love and his patience. Without him, I’d never felt this, I’d never been allowed to feel this joy, wouldn’t have been able to if he didn’t show me it was worth fighting for.

Not brave enough to actually kiss him, I bring his gloved hand to my lips and kiss his knuckle, even if it’s not skin on skin. The act alone holds enough meaning to relay what I mean, and a smile almost as bright as my own comes alive on his face.

  
  


Õ

  
  


I’m still stuck in the music once it ends, leaving Azriel to practically drag me through the crowd as we head to leave, to get to our hotel. I snap out of it in time to ask for a toilet visit before we leave, but once I return to Azriel I’m a giddery mess again, a mess Azriel is practically forced to drag out the door, something he does with a smile on his face.

“I think I can safely assume you’re happy with tonight” Azriel states as we walk down the pavement, headed for our hotel, fellowships of attendees doing the same here and there along the street.

“Happy doesn’t _begin_ to describe it, those were the best pieces of music I’ve _ever_ listened to” He smiles, a bright lovely smile I’ll never get tired of. “I want to be able to do that, _perform_ like that, _play_ like that” I laugh. “Screw social studies, I want to be an artist!” Azriel laughs then too, clutches my hand a little tighter.

“Catch that dream, Angel, I believe in you” Looking up into his hazel eyes, I beam, my heart so filled with love.

This summer has been the greatest time of my life, this summer with Azriel, with the gang, the circle. I never thought I’d get to be happy like this, never thought it was something life had to offer me.

A sound—loud and deafening—pierces the calm night. A thunder-like boom that tears through the calm chatter of the people around us and leaves a ringing silence behind. It comes and goes so fast that I hardly react, don’t have time to react, not before Azriel’s bright face twists in discomfort, a pained breath escaping his lips as his gaze falters from my own, falls down to himself, a fall I follow down with him.

Down to a growing, angry red splotch on his white shirt.

The screaming hits me next, the terror of those around us as they scramble to get away from the danger.

I’m just frozen in place, all light draining from me as I realize what's happening.

“Estelle…” He breathes, his hand reaching up to that red splotch, the liquid coating his glove as he plants his palm against it.

I can only stare, unable to accept the reality I'm faced with.

But then his legs buckle, and my body moves on pure instinct, clutches him tightly as I try to support his weight for him, try to keep him standing. But his limping body is too heavy for me, and no mater how hard I struggle, his body falls to the hard pavement bellow, bringing mine down with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 🙃


	29. The Concert part 2

“No…” The word slips form my lips as I sink to my knees beside him, clutching his hand tightly “ _No_! This _can’t_ be happening!” I sob. “This _can’t_ be real!” But Azriel’s pained breaths are very much real, the blood coating his shirt as well.

Ambulance, I  _need_ an ambulance.

I fumble for my phone, fumble to call the number, all while Azriel’s pained breathing grows shallower and shallower, his grip of my hand weakening.

“111 what’s your emergency?” The woman answers on the other end, and my voice catches in my throat as I attempt to speak, hooks onto a sob as my throat threatens to closes in on itself.

“Shooting, downtown Prythian” I tear my eyes from him to look for landmarks, for anything to guide them here as fast as possible, even if looking away from Azriel’s dimming eyes rips my heart to shreds. “North of the royal concert house” My eyes land on a nearby restaurant. “Outside Palletto” I pray it’s enough.

“Is anyone injured?” My eyes snap down to Azriel, his hand still struggling to hold on to mine, his other pressing down against his leaking wound.

He isn’t coughing blood, wherever it hit it didn’t hit his lungs. 

“Yes”

“Are you with them?” 

“Yes” My voice cracks. “He needs an ambulance” The words are nothing more than pleading sobs.

“Stay calm ma’am, one is on the way as we speak, just keep me here with you” I put the phone down on the sidewalk, put on speakers, and push my freed hand down atop the one he holds against his upper abdomen, desperate to make the red stop flowing. “Is he conscious?”

“Yes” His eyes are open, staring up at me as he struggles for breath.

“Try to keep him conscious” I gulp, push down my sobs and try to clear way for proper speaking.

“You’re going to be okay, Azzy, just stay with me” Even so, my voice comes out pathetic and weak. His eyes flutter closed for a second, his breathing hitching painfully, and I move my bloody hand to his cheek, forcing it to stay set on me. “Stay with me, love” I beg. “ _Stay_ ” But he smiles, smiles in apology, pain, love, and his hand at his chest reaches up for my cheek, cups it, his hot blood sticky against my skin.

His mouth moves to speak, but all that comes out is a shaky pained breath before his eyes flutter closed and his arm falls limply down onto himself.

It feels like the world falls apart around me, fades away and loses color. All the light and joy I’d held within me is consumed by a void of nothingness that threatens to suffocate me.

“ _Azriel_!” I call out, slapping his cheek in a desperate attempt to wake him up, to get back my light, but he doesn’t react. Instead, I resort to pushing against where I think the wound is, to try and stop him form losing more blood than he already has.

I hear the woman on the phone urge me to stay calm, but her words are distant and unimportant.

Because he’s not breathing.

“ _He’s not breathing!_ ” I cry out, cry out to anyone who might hear, might be able to help.

_Please help._

But there’s no one there, the street evacuated by all who could once the bullet was fired.

I’m alone, and my love is dying in my arms, my world is fading before my eyes.

“CPR” is the only word that registers from the woman on the phone. But doing chest compressions will only pump more blood out of him.

I settle to aid his breathing, desperate as I breathe air into his lungs, my vision blurry with hot stinging tears as I move to listen for his heartbeat.

Only to find nothing there.

Not a hint of his symphony, not a flutter of a beat.

I do the one thing my desperate mind can think of, settle my knee over the entry wound and push down, hoping it might stop the bleeding just enough for now, and with all the strength my small body possesses, I try to make his heart beat again.

I’m not strong enough to do it, not quite, but anything short of everything I’ve got is less than I can afford.

I can’t lose him, I  _can’t_ lose him.

_I can’t_ .

It’s all that echoes in my head as I go through the pattern of chest compressions and aided breaths.  I don't even realize the paramedics arrive until a pair of arms pull me away from him and I cry out in refusal, thrash against their hold of me.  It’s no use to fight, I don’t have the strength left in me, so I watch as they take him away in that ambulance, leaving me behind with my restrainer.

The world is blinking with lights I don’t see, full of sounds I don’t quite hear. It’s all empty, it’s all cold.

“Can you stand” The voice hardly registers.

When I don’t respond, they bring me to my feet for me, hold a solid grip on me as they pick up my phone from the sidewalk and speak words to the dispatcher on the other end that go in through one ear and leaves out the other.

I’m sat down on a stretch in the back of another ambulance, a blanket wrapped over my shoulders, but it grants me no warmth as I tremble, yet somehow sit in perfect stillness.

Where there was light and warmth mere moments ago, there is nothing but a cold empty void, and in my head where there once was music, there is nothing but a pleading echo, losing hope with every beat of my heart,  filling with a silence reminiscent of what I found when I listened for his heartbeat .

People come into view, police officers, but I don’t really see them, not past the blood staining my hands, his blood. Nor do I hear their questions—if they ask any—my ears overcome by this deafening silence that slowly seeps into my bones.

“Enough questioning, she’s in shock, see if any bystanders have what you need” It’s hazy, muffled, but the more compassionate voice spears through the silence, just barely reaching me. “Name…” I see the woman, yet don’t, the woman who restrained me, tore me away from him. She holds my phone, finds my Id card and shows the cops. “Take the investigation away from my patient, you can speak with her _after_ I’ve made sure she’s okay” She closes the doors to the ambulance then, sits down in a chair before me and looks at me.

I hold that gaze, but I’m not really seeing, focusing on anything.

“Is there anyone I can call? Family?” Her words reach me as if spoken below water, her body obscured by a foggy film. My eyes fall to the phone in her hand, my phone, still unlocked for her to use.

“Ramona Noctis” My voice is harsh, hoarse and weak. It doesn’t quite feel like I’m the one speaking.

“This one?” She holds the phone before me, shows what looks like my contact list, and through the fog I see a name, think it’s hers, but it could very well be Rhys'.

I nod either way, and she calls while I absentmindedly note that we’re moving, the ambulance braking and turning.

“Yes, hello Mrs Noctis, I’m a paramedic and would like to ask you to gather your closest family and head for the hospital as soon as you are able” The silence is empty and vast. “I’m not fully informed, but a young man is being driven to the hospital along with a woman in his company, she said to call you” The pause to her words again paves way for the void. “Yes, Estelle, she’s currently in shock… The reception will direct you where you need to go once you arrive, I’m terribly sorry, ma’am” And she hangs up.

The rest of the ride hardly registers in my mind, not even as the woman wipes me clean off as much blood as she can, or as she brings me into the hospital and does some minor tests to my health, tests my body seems to mindlessly follow along with, used to from before. I’m dispatched to a waiting room, the blanket I was given still wrapped over my shoulders, and a security guard keeping a close eye on me in my peripheral.

There’s just nothingness, emptiness and cold, like my mind has frozen over to cope, to keep me from falling to pieces where I sit, from crumbling with the weight of the grief I should feel.

Then there’s something, muffled voices, a face before my own, a pair of warm hands on my cheeks.

“Oh dear, we’re here now, we’re here” Ramona, her kind eyes reveal it, her voice.

I can’t move, I can’t speak, I can’t.

I just can’t.

She brings me in for a hug, rests my head against her shoulder as she holds me close. I’m left frozen in her embrace.

“It’s going to be okay, Azzy’s going to be okay” She tries to convince me, or herself. “He’s in surgery right now, the doctors are going to fix him right up, you’ll see” There are others in the room, I note, but note it no further than the barest acknowledgment. “Come, let’s go clean you up some more” I don’t resist as she pulls me to my feet, my blanket falling from my shoulders as I follow Ramona with what feels like autopilot guiding me. She takes me to a nearby restroom, using a wet cloth to carefully wipe away the blood the paramedics happened to miss caked into my hair, and under my nails. 

I still feel it though, vaguely feel the hot stickiness of his blood on my hands if I let myself look too hard past the numbness, try to pear out past the ice I’ve encased myself in.

Ramona’s every touch is gentle and soft, but it brings me no warmth, no comfort.

She speaks words of assurance, but my mind is too overcome by the silence I found in his chest to hear it, almost  deafened by it.

I don’t even know how I got back to the chair.

An eternity seems to pass, an endless span of time as we wait in that hall, the silence deafening and thick, even outside the silence of my mind.

“Mr and Mrs Noctis?” A voice tears through that silence, and the people to my right rise in answer. “Come with me for a moment” They follow, their fading footsteps echoing in the void, and a door seems to click closed nearby.

Then the silence is restored, until a voice splits it apart again.

“This is all your fault” A vile, rage-filled voice full of pain speaks to my left, and my head moves ever so slightly to look to the person as they stand, their piercing violet eyes fixed on me. “He’s going to die because of _you_ ”

“ _Razie_ ” Rhys tone is warning, but the young woman pays him no mind, holds her ground, her eyes full of tears and grief.

What my eyes should hold, but all which I feel has been locked behind walls of cold, leaving the empty shell I once was. I feel the cracks in it though, feel them grow as I look into those eyes, take in her words.

“If he’d never met you he’d been _fine_ ” Another crack—a larger one—leaves hot tears slipping down my cheeks, the only physical response my body gives her.

“Razie don’t _say_ shit like that, are you out of your mind!?” Rhys continues to warn, stands. She storms off then, and Rhys moves to follow. “Shit, no! Wait!” He stumbles a couple steps before halting. “Cass, stay with El, I’ll be back” And then he’s gone.

Leaving me with one reoccurring thought.

It’s my fault.

It’s all my fault.

She’s right.

My breathing grows shallow  and chipped, shaky, my body trembling as I sob, the ice in me cracking and leaving leaks of pain to wash through the emptiness, drowning me with its volumes. A pair of arms quickly pull me in against them, and I just let it out as his shirt muffles my cries.

“She’s just distraught, she didn’t mean what she said” He tries to assure me, but it’s not true, she’s right, she is.

Only one shot was fired tonight, only one. It hit Azriel for a reason.

I know who did this. I should have known they’d do this, I’ve been naïve, ignoring their warnings, been lost in the bliss of my happiness.

Look where it’s brought me.

“She’s right” My voice quivers as I sob. “It’s my fault” If he’d never met me, he’d never gotten involved in my mess, he’d never become a target if he didn’t mean anything to me. “ _It’s all my fault_ ” He holds me tighter, runs his hand up my back slowly.

“No, it’s not…”

“ _They_ did this” I sob, and Cassian freezes. “One shot was fired” My voice cracks. “It hit Azriel” My throat feels like it’s being torn to shreds all over again. “Hybern did this” Cassian doesn’t say a word, seems to have entered a sort of enraged paralysis as he puts the pieces together for himself, connecting the dots. But he says nothing, instead resuming his soft strokes in an attempt to comfort me.

His warmth still does nothing to ward off the pain in my heart, or fill the emptiness my tears leave behind as my sadness pours out.

I keep holding on to him though, desperate for  _something_ to keep me together now that my protective ice has been breached, and I keep holding on, even as footsteps pass through the fog in my head, a fog which whirls like a storm as I cry, keeping out most sound still.

“Where’s Rhysand and Razie?” Rowan questions.

“Razie stormed off, Rhys went after her” Cassian explains, leaving out he why.

The sound of someone sitting down, and another close behind enters the silence, along with the soft sniffles of repressed crying.

“He’s alive” Rowan starts. “Stable for now, but they'll continue to monitor him closely… They’re also not sure when he’ll wake up” The weight of those words slam into me, and I feel like I can’t fight the pull of gravity anymore, yet Cassian keeps me from caving in for the time being.

“A coma?” Cass asks what I didn’t dare, couldn’t bare to consider.

“Yes, probably, his bloodloss caused oxygen deficiency which most likely caused some brain damage... Thus a coma...” Rowan answers, his tone strained, chipped. 

“School starts in just a couple days, he can’t miss his last year”

“That’s _hardly_ his main concern, Cassian” Rowan’s voice is tight, strained. “But I understand what you mean…” He lets out a long, exhausted sigh. “I’ll talk to the school, we’ll figure it out”

“Will we be able to see him?”

“No” And I thought I felt crushed before. “Not right now, not before they're sure of his condition... They told us to wait here for further updates”

A doctor comes after what feels like forever, breaking the terrible news that we’re not allowed to see him tonight, not fully. The window will have to do for now while he remains in his delicate state, and Cassian gingerly guides me through the halls towards the intensive care unit where he’s being held. Rhys and Razie find us somewhere along the way. If she looks guilty about her outburst, I don’t notice, not as the window presents itself before me, and I see the person beyond it, motionless in the bed, hooked up to machines I have no way of naming.

I see a heart rate monitor though, see the spiked line of his weak pulse, and I can’t decide between relief and devastation.

Because I want to hear it, want to replace the emptiness I heard with the sound of his beating heart, however faint it might be. 

I want to hear his breathing, look into his eyes, hear his voice.

I want to hold his hand, squeeze it and feel him squeeze back.

But he’s alive. I can’t ask for more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't hate me too much.


	30. Emptiness

Ramona refuses to let me go home, and Rhys and Cass agree that I shouldn’t be alone tonight. But the thought of sleeping in Azriel’s room feels like a punch to the gut, especially once I find it empty after having the shower Ramona suggested.

I only have my undergarments to wear here, over my borrowed robe, my dress bloody and ruined. Not that I care, not once I close the door behind me and seclude myself inside his room, but I find one of his hoodies discarded on his computer chair and snatch it for myself, hug it close to my chest and breathe in the lingering hints of his cedar and mist scent.

It makes me cry all over again.

I shrug off my robe and tug it on, let it swallow me whole, try to find some hint of warmth in it too, but keep finding nothing but emptiness in my soul no matter what I do. The bed grants nothing but haunting memories of his arms wrapped tightly around me, and his heart lulling me to sleep.

The silence leaves me awake, though the few times I slip into sleep, all I see are red stained hands and lifeless eyes, all I hear is the sound of deafening silence where a steady rhythm should be, and I wake up to the emptiness of reality; the darkness of his room. I stare into it until I fade away again, and again, and again.

I’m slipping. No, falling, I have since the moment I saw the blood staining his shirt, heard him breathe my name, the last words he spoke to me, and there’s nothing keeping me from hitting the ground. Only a small string of hope slows my plummet, the fact that he's alive still, however hurt, but it could snap at any moment, there's no guarantee he'll make it to morning, the doctors implied as much.

I hardly realize dawn has come before the door to his room opens and someone steps inside. I don’t acknowledge their approach, not even as they crouch down before me, or as their hand brushes along my cheek.

“We’ve all agreed to keep you here until further notice, is that alright with you?” Her voice feels distant, but I hear it.

I manage to nod, but barely.

“Is there anything you want brought here from your apartment? Clothes? Personal belongings?” My hands jaggedly sign clothes, and school.

Ramona looks on curiously, trying to make sense of it.

“Clothes and school?” I nod. Being around Azriel must have taught her some. “Who would know what to bring?”

_Mor._ I sign, and she nods.

“Keys?” I do a motion of popping a collar, not sure how else to explain it so she understands. “Jacket?” I nod. “Okay, I’ll call Mor” Her hand cups my cheek, her thumb brushing through the harsh line of my dried tears. “Are you hungry?” I shake my head. “Thirsty?” I shake my head.

She sighs.

“You should take some time away from school and work, dear” my eyes shift at the mention of work.

My new schedule begins tomorrow, and school does as well. I can’t afford to miss a second of it, either of it.

Not again.

I shake my head.

“You’re in no state to work, Estelle” I shake my head. “We could help you with money while you’re here, it’s not a problem” I shake my head.

She sighs and leans down, giving my brow a soft, comforting, motherly kiss.

“Rest for now, we’ll talk more later” She stands, and I think she’s well aware that I wont be sleeping once she leaves, but also knows she’s powerless to help me right now.

The emptiness continues.

It seems to greet me like an old friend. An unwelcome friend.

Mor however, is welcome.

She sets a bag of stuff down at the foot of the bed and practically lays herself over me as she hugs me tightly. I can’t bare to emote, or move, but appreciate the comfort to a degree.

“We’ve all been so worried about you both” She says, says, sitting down before the bed, before me. “I can’t believe what happened”

They haven’t seen him, they weren’t allowed to come visit before. I wonder if they were told last night, or if Rhys or Cass broke the news this morning instead.

“Ramona told me the doctors called not long ago, said we’d get to visit later today” My eyes focus on her then, the fog clearing a little. He's alive. “You should get up, get dressed, maybe eat something” I unfocus then. “He’d want you to” I blink.

He would, wouldn’t he.

He’d want me to stay strong.

Gathering all the strength I have, I push myself up to sit at the edge of the bed, Mor gingerly helping me do so.

If she cares about my lack of clothing aside from his hoodie and undergarments, she doesn’t say. She just looks through the pile of clothes she’s taken with her here and picks out a set for me to wear, setting them down on the bed beside me.

“Come down when you’re ready, I’ll leave you to dress” She gives my right shoulder a squeeze before heading for the door, leaving me in the void again.

It takes everything I have to dress, to tug on the black jeans and gray shirt, along with all that goes with it.

I refuse to part with the hoodie, even if it’s hot outside, even if I slept in it, even if its so big it practically drowns me.

I won’t part with it.

I walk down, yet even though I move, the places I pass don’t quite register in my brain, my movements on autopilot at best, but I get by, get to the foot of the stairs where Ramona urges me into the kitchen, presents me with some freshly fried pancakes topped with syrup and a glass of milk with it.

I assume Mor mentioned I’d be down and had her prepare.

My apatite is next to none existent, but I grasp the fork and drench it in syrup, feeling no desire for actual food, but figuring the sugar in the syrup might at least give me some fuel. Ramona looks pained once I set down my fork and lean back in my seat, my will to eat stretched to its limit with just a drop of syrup downed.

“Just a sip of milk, dear, please” I look to her, then the glass, mild nausea pestering my stomach at the thought of it. But I grasp it, have a sip and force it down no matter how my throat resists.

She doesn’t push me from there.

I join Mor in the living room, not quite sure how I got there, but mindlessly watch the TV with her as we wait for the rest of the circle to arrive, gathering to head to the hospital around lunch. Rhys and Cass are currently picking them up, if I heard Mor right, I wasn’t really paying attention.

A door opening, followed by many sets of feet, hint that they’ve arrived, but even as Mor stands to greet them, I remain seated before the TV.

Elain comes into view, comes into focus for a second as she reaches her hand out to me. At first I just stare at it, but eventually, I let my hand reach up to grasp hers, and the woman, using more strength than I thought she had, pulls me up to my feet and brings me in for a hug.

I don’t resist it, I don’t have the strength to bother with it.

She whispers some string of comfort, but I don’t pay attention.

Once she lets me go, her pained smile is somewhat comforting, but not more so than any one else’ attempts at comfort.

“We should get going” Ramona declares somewhere in the hall, and Elain takes my hand and guides me out into the foyer, urges me to put on my shoes, a pair Mor must have brought with her, as they’re not my flats from yesterday, and then she leads me out into the fresh air, leading me down the path to the garage. I let her hold onto my hand even as we reach it, even as the chaos of picking who goes where ensues, a chaos I spend with my eyes fixed on a certain motorcycle tucked into the corner of the space, my chest aching at the sight of it.

I get put in Rhys’ car together with Feyre, Mor and Elain, and all throughout the ride, she continues to hold my hand, a soft attempt at comfort that I don’t push away, but don’t acknowledge in any physical sense, don’t hold back, because I don’t have the strength, or will, to do so.

I catch a glimpse of myself in the rearview mirror once, find that I look like a wraith, ghastly and cold and ruined.

I don’t care.

What I care about is walking up the stairs to the hospital, riding the elevator up to the right level, walking down the hall to the room they keep him in, and not falling apart on the journey.

“I ask that you take turns being close, and that you’re careful, he is not to be touch anywhere near his chest” We all comply with the doctor’s terms, I only with a faint nod, even if it pains me to not be allowed to hear his heart, to no be allowed to rest my head atop his chest and listen to it again.

We go inside, Ramona the first to approach him, sitting down in the chair at his side and taking his scarred hand in hers.

The other’s dare a little closer as well, but Elain stays at my side, holding my hand while I remain frozen by the far wall, my eyes fixed on his slowly moving chest, listening intently to the beeping heart rate monitor. A mask connected to a tube gives him purer oxygen to breathe, leaving most of his face hidden, but he looks calm, asleep.

In a coma.

But he’s alive. I try to find some peace in that fact.

I take a step, and Elain let’s me go, let’s me walk without any kind of restraint, and the space between Mor and Feyre parts wordlessly as I move to his side.

There are tubes connected to his arms, Into his veins, so I’m hesitant to touch him, but I settle my hand on his eventually, the time which has passed undecided, and I gently intertwine his fingers with mine, find them colder than usual, but holding the warmth of life to them.

He’s alive, he’s still with me.

All is not lost.

Rowan and Ramona leave to speak with the doctors, but the circle lingers, remain silent, even as I hop up on the edge of his sickbed, cradling his hand in my lap. I take care not to be remotely close to his chest, to just sit there and massage his rough palm, be content with that small reassuring heat he radiates.

“I don’t understand how this happened” Mor is the first to speak, but I don’t acknowledge her words.

“It’s not really something you _understand_ , it just happens…” Feyre mumbles.

“He was at the wrong place at the wrong time” Amren adds, and Nesta agrees, as does Elain, but Rhys, Cass and Razie remain quiet about it.

I wonder if Cass told Rhys what I said.

“It could have been anyone” Amren continues, and I shake my head, it’s all I can deign to do, and I practically feel their eyes lock on me. “Anything to add, little owl?”

I look to Cassian then, and he seems to tense in his silence.

“She doesn’t think this was a coincidence…” Cass starts hesitantly, and all eyes shift to him. “She thinks he was targeted specifically”

“On what basis?” Amren questions.

“Hurt her” he gulps. “She thinks it was Hybern, Amarantha or whoever is out to get her still” Silence follows. “Only one shot was fired, and it hit him. Random shooters usually don’t just shoot one shot, trigger-happy people don’t settle with one”

I look back down at his calm, almost serene face, keep stroking his hand ever gently.

“If she’s right, this is attempted murder and has to be brought to the police” Amren says colder.

“Does she have any proof it was them?” Feyre adds, and I slowly pull out my phone and get out the screenshots I’ve been saving of those texts I’ve been getting. I hand it over to Mor, who gasps as she reads them.

“Cauldron…” She breathes, and I hear someone snatch the phone from her grasp.

“You can’t hide, we see you… How long have you been getting these?” I can’t answer that, I can’t find the dates in my head.

I just look at his face and try to feel okay.

“I don’t think interrogating her is a good idea right now” Rhys tries to distract Amren with, but I don’t particularly care.

Amren can question me, she just won’t get an answer verbally.

I can’t.

“She’s not the shot one” She snaps, and I wince as a flash of red stained hands overcome my vision. “We need her to co-operate if we’re catch these vermin, if it's them”

“ _Amren_ ” Mor warns, placign what is meant to be a comforting hand on my arm.

“The police called her phone this morning, mom picked up, they’ll be asking her questions later today, we don’t have to take this investigation into our own hands anymore” Rhys says. “It’s in the public eye now, we _shouldn’t_ interfere with it”

“You think she’ll be more keen to talk to complete strangers?” Amren counters. “If she tells us, we can relay the information for her and help give proof of their possible motive, we could tell them about the rape too and kill two birds with one stone” I tighten my grip of his hand, flashes of memories best buried clawing their way out.

I try to focus on his eyes instead, his closed, sleeping eyes, a part of me hoping they’ll open any second, that he’ll awaken at any moment.

“That’s not really our story to tell for her” Mor butts in. “Even if I get what you mean”

“We should at least be there during the questioning, as support” Nesta states, and a silence of agreement seems to fall over the circle, a silence Feyre breaks.

“Do you… Do you think Eris was in on this?”

“Eris is more bark than bite, it feels out of character for him” Rhys states, though I hear the contemplation in his voice, the anger simmering beneath it.

“He _was_ mingling with Amarantha though, you know she can be… Persuasive, as much as she's ambitious” Mor says cautiously, and a moment of silence follows.

“We’ll see in school, I suppose, if he happens to slip up” Feyre concludes with a sigh, and another moment of silence follows. “Should we…” She trails off, and I’m not sure what visual queue she uses to convey what she leaves unsaid.

Everyone must have agreed though, as they leave the room, leaving me and him alone together.

Only the beeps of the heart rate monitor and the sound of his slow breathing fills the emptiness, yet it’s better than the void.

Slowly, I lift his hand to my lips, kiss his knuckles softly and feel a section of ice cracking again, the well of pent up pain flowing out into the emptiness, rushing down my cheeks as I cry my silent tears, my eyes closing as I bring his hand to my cheek, lay his palm along it, practically begging the mother to let him grab hold of it for himself, begging him to wake up and hold me again.

My prayers aren’t answered, and I set his hand down in my lap in defeat, though do not let go of it.

I’ll never let go of him.

  
  


Õ

  
  


The police does come over that evening, questions me. I can’t bare to speak, but I write down my answers as best as I can, the circle there to support me as I do.

The police have realized who I am, seem disturbed once I write out what happened to me in Hybern, and how it was darkened. They promise to look into it atop of this current investigation, as they could be linked, but unless they find solid proof aside from the recording Amren shows them of Amarantha at the mall, there isn’t much they can do, nor is the motive _'just 'cause they can'_ valid evidence to pin this current situation on them.

None of this surprises me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why is writing sad things so much easier than happy things?


	31. Pushing on

Cassian takes it upon himself to drive me to school the next day, but only after spending about twenty minutes trying to get me to eat something for breakfast. I got down one bite of toast and a sip of orange juice before my stomach said no. He offers me coffee once we get to homeroom, but I politely decline by pushing it his way, at which he only smiles a tense smile before taking it for himself.

I keep my focus on my schedule, memorizing it while the circle chats, trying to maintain some sense of normality with each other, despite the vacant chair beside Cassian. I find that my schedule is much the same as last year, only that Mondays are free from lunch and onward, labeled as study time, which I guess is nice. Music has been moved to Tuesday mornings because of this. Art has also been moved to Fridays, and gymnastics to Thursdays. No other changes are all that notable. Creative writing is still this morning, nothing changed there, and I decide to head there now, slip away from the group without a word.

I don’t have the energy to bother, nor to feel bad about it.

The people I pass are insignificant, I don’t pay them a moment of thought, hardly know if I pass someone I happen to know. I could have passed Sarah and I wouldn’t have had a clue. That’s not what matters though, it’s getting to class, but even when I do, when I get my assignment, my document remains blank for a good while, the task of writing a short story seemingly impossible to my mind, until I realize I can just write about the emptiness in me. From another perspective, of course.

It proves to be therapeutic.

I leave class without addressing the teacher, sit through my other class without a care beyond the necessary, and when lunch arrives. Mor makes sure to bring me there, makes sure to keep me company in the food line, and that I get something on my plate. I sit with the circle, and while they speak with me, tell me about their classes and the brawls between the nightmare students with seemingly amused and content voices, I feel that they’re worried, are almost desperate to get some kind of reaction from me.

They get none.

After lunch, I technically have no more classes, expected to spend time in the library studying or doing homework, but I have nothing of either. I have no idea what to do.

All I want is to feel his arms around me again, hear his voice, his heart, be in his presence-

A thought brushes my mind then, and I tug out my phone and look up the visitation hours at the hospital. Between twelve and six, I could go.

As I have no homework, and even then could just work on it at the hospital, I decide what to do. The bus ride there is quick, and once I give the receptionist my name and business here in the form of a note, she tells me to head on up. Ramona must have written me into the visitation list.

I silently thank her for that.

There’s a nurse inside, checking values I assume, but she’s secondary as I make my way to the chair by his bedside, all while she greets me with a smile. I can’t return it,

“You must be Estelle” She begins as she changes the bag of liquid that goes into his arm through one of those tubes.

I nod slowly, reaching my hand out to take his, even if she’s right there.

“He’s doing alright, considering the circumstances, I hope that grants you some peace of mind” I don’t respond. “He might be able to hear you, vaguely, depending on the depth of his coma, they can be tricky like that. Studies show it’s good for patients to hear their loved one’s voices though, helps the brain get on track” My lips part, but no sound comes out. The nurse smiles tightly. “If anything happens, just press that red button, it’ll alert the staff” She points to the button, and I put the information to memory.

She leaves eventually, but I remain, keep my smaller hand clasping his, his long fingers woven together with my own. They’re limp, colder than usual, but his hand none the less.

A thought passes by as I sit there, and I slowly let my other hand reach up to his wrist, settle two cautious finger above his pulse. I feel the beat then, the same beat as shown on the monitor, and I feel my eyes sting with tears as I get just a hint of his beating heart, a taste of it’s sound.

I close my eyes and feel it, imagine it thumping in my ears, and I stay until work tears me away.

  
  


Õ

  
  


Mary looks concerned once I get to work, but again, she doesn’t matter, and I know that’s harsh, but I can’t waste my energy indulging her, I have work to focus on. All that matters is getting through the day, and that means changing into my work clothes and plastering on a polite smile. I barely manage it, and I know Mary sees right through the mask. She doesn’t question it though, and I’m glad.

Ramona picks me up after work, but pulls an Azriel on me and talks to my boss about cutting out my Sunday work. He complies, somehow more intimidated by the small woman than he was of Azriel, and I feel just a flicker of embarrassment as I get into her car and let her drive us home.

Once we get home, she offers to heat up some leftovers for me before bed, but I shake my head and head for a shower instead. Then I return to his room, tug on his hoodie and hunker down for another nearly sleepless night, haunted by the phantom touches of his missing presence, by nightmares in which the medics never came, nightmares that leave me sobbing into the pillow I clutch in his stead.

The next day starts off no better than the last. Cass and Rhys again try to coax me into eating, and while I manage a nibble of toast, I can’t stomach more. I’m trying, but it makes me feel sick to even try to eat, nauseous.

I get to music class, ignore my teacher’s worried looks as I arrive before everyone else, ignore Sarah and the gang once they arrive, my eyes blankly set on the piano I site before, the piano I can’t bare to play.

The task today is making a cover, a task we’re set to work on for a few weeks, but I can’t participate with the group today, it wouldn’t be fair to them right now.

My teacher doesn’t ask what’s wrong, but he hands me a spare key to the music hall he’s had made for me specifically and tells me to come here whenever I feel the need, and I thank him with a nod.

I catch Filip’s gaze for a moment before we all leave to our next classes, catch the concern he doesn’t try to hide in his blue eyes. I can’t hold that gaze.

Filip has been continuously kind to me during our time working together, always been more forward about befriending me. I don’t know what he thinks of me, if he just sees me as a friend or secretly hopes for something more. The former I can be, but the latter… I don’t know what to do about that, don’t have the energy to spare to ponder, so I avoid it altogether.

After math with Mor and Elain, lunch comes around, and I push down a fork of mashed potatoes and some slices of sausage. Mainly because Elain insists. As I leave, feeling less than on top, my eyes settle on someone, focus on a pair of eyes I don’t expect to find anything but cruelty inside, yet right now see something else.

Eris.

His dark amber eyes flash with a glimmer of pain as he looks at me, but I can’t quite decide if its his own personal pain, or sympathy. Especially as it fades the moment one of his brothers speak, shifts into something cruel and vile, the kind I’m used to seeing in his eyes.

That night, I head to the bathroom in the middle of the night because I just had to go, and I happen to overhear a conversation being had in Rhys’ room.

“She’s worse off than you were after Tamlin, darling, I don’t know what to do” It stops me in my tracks. “Yeah, we’re doing all we can, but there has to be _more_ we can do, I can’t just watch her waste away, I know Cass feels the same” I should get going, but… “I know… She’s strong, you’re right… But I hear her sometimes, crying out form a nightmare, and _it hits too close to home, Feyre_ ” I look down the hall and decide I’ve heard enough.

I don’t want to hear more.

During the remaining days of the week which I struggle to get through, longing for the weekend, I continue to spot that strange look in Eris’ eyes, see that flicker of pain—or regret—I can’t quite place whenever I pass him in the halls, alone or with company.

He doesn’t approach, doesn’t comment, stays away, as does all of his brothers, and I don’t understand why.

I don’t care to ponder, not as the weekend arrives and I bring all the homework I’d normally work on at home to the hospital, let the beep of his heart rate monitor keep me sane as I work on my homework at his side, let his slow breathing keep me breathing as well.

The circle stops by in waves, greets me with smiles, ask how I feel, as if Azriel isn’t actually the person they’re there to see, but there to make sure I’m clinging to life as well.

I go to the gym later that day, let Cassian treat me to some boxing per usual, my only motivation the fact that I was too weak to protect him, and I refuse to remain as such.

I work myself to the bone, pass out in Azriel’s bed once night comes, and awaken with a cry as blood and death haunts my mind, leaves me curled in on myself as the sight of his lifeless eyes linger in my mind, his unmoving chest, his unbeating heart.

Rhys, of all people, comes to see me, finds me and my crying mess and doesn’t say a thing, looks at me with eyes that hold understanding and nothing else. He says nothing as he sits down in bed with me and let’s his hand stroke through my hair until I fall back asleep again, and says nothing about it the morning after as he and Cass try to make me eat something.

It doesn’t feel as unprecedented then, as I get some juice into me and grant the moment a brief second of reflection. His conversation with Feyre is explanation enough.

Monday plays out like the last, silent and painful without him, even with the circle’s constant attempts to comfort me. It’s hard to comfort someone who’s soul has been torn in half, but I admire their persistence. Amren doesn’t ask me questions about my history with Hybern, but I know she’s digging on her own. I have no idea why they’d do this, but I know it’s them, it’s too perfectly executed to not be them.

As I’m headed for the hospital to spend my hours of free study time there, I’m met with none other than Eris stood before my locker.

It stops me in my tracks, leaves my eyes scanning the seemingly empty hallway for any of his brothers. I find none. Only then do I settle my eyes on his again, realizing I feel no fear of him, of his intentions. I don’t know if it’s because I’ve gone numb, or I just can’t find any hostility in his eyes.

“Will he make it?” He asks, tone low, like a whisper, as if he’s scared someone will overhear.

The fact that he knows what’s happened sparks a rage in me, a cold, ruthless anger shoving itself against the walls of the void, finding cracks to sipper out from.

I hold his gaze, neither confirming or denying, not about to give any information he might relay to Amarantha or whoever he has contact with in Hybern, if he truly does have something to do with all this.

He sighs, reaches a hand up to his brown, then brushes it through his red hair.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen” He breathes. “Things weren’t supposed to go this far” Regret, fear, it’s peculiar to find it in his voice, to say the least.

“Hybern knows no bounds, they never have” I speak calmly, and Eris’ eyes widen at the sound of my voice. Even _I_ am surprised by how it comes out, even and laced with anger.

“You… You’re…”

“What was your part in this” Cold, lethal words that has Eris gulping.

“I… Never intended to harm you, I swear it” Not an answer to the question, but I let him speak, let him say what he wants said, mindlessly starting the recording feature on my phone. “When Tallan took interest in you, I knew I had to take charge, otherwise he’d been truly inspired by what he found and hurt you beyond repair. He’d have done worse than Dagdan, in a different way, he’d have found pleasure in tearing you apart piece by piece, and not just mentally” I hold his gaze. “Rhysand and his circle aren’t the only ones who play monsters to keep the real ones in check”

I raise a brow.

“So you haven’t enjoyed tormenting me” His jaw tenses.

“I’m not perfect, I enjoy getting under people’s skin. The thicker their skin, the better. I’m part monster, but I’d never take it further than the psychological. It was an act to keep Tallan and my brothers away, it’s a part I always play in order to keep my authority over them, keep their leashes taunt” He did never physically hurt me, did he. He touched me, but never to injure, even when he could have. “Lucien was always too good, he didn’t fit in, and he was cast out because of it. Were _I_ to show any signs of the same _weakness_ as him, I’d be given the same treatment, punishment, and I’m not just talking about my brothers” Silence lingers.

“You expect me to forgive you” Meant as a question, executed poorly.

“No, I’ll keep doing what I have to do, I just thought you deserved an explanation. And, I want you to know that I played no physical part in what happened” My mind hones in on his last sentence.

“What _was_ your part” I press, my tone sharper than previously.

“I gave Amarantha the information she wanted, she told her terrifying friends, and they sorted out the rest. I had no idea this would happen. I was stupid to think they only wanted psychological torture, I should have been smarter” I can’t decide where to stand in this matter. Eris has a point in his preaching about being a half-reluctant monster, that he has to be one to make it through this hell of a life, we all go about that differently.

Does it justify his actions? No.

Do I hate him? No.

“What are their plans?”

“No idea, taking a lady out to dinner doesn't equal omniscience, but she’s got deeper motive than she lets on, I can feel it. She _is_ pretty verbal about hating Seraphim’s though, so that’s something. The twins are also pretty clear about wanting to make your life a living hell, just for fun” He looks genuinely disturbed, but it clears into a thought before long. “I think they’ve found your sister” My eyes widen. “Well, I’d assume they have, considering I did without much trouble. I’ll let you decide what that means, but if Azriel works as an example…” I let those words linger in the air for a moment, the implication of possible danger cast her way.

She’s innocent in this, she’s got _nothing_ to do with me and whatever Amarantha has against me, or the twins. I might not love her, but I don’t hate her enough to want to see her hurt.

“I’ll tell the circle of your involvement” I state coldly, locking my unease behind lock and key for now.

I can’t deal with the subject of my sister right now.

“I expect no less, I’ll tell them whatever they want to know, I’m not getting in trouble for this mess”

“You’re a terrible person” Just couldn’t help throwing that out there.

“I’m aware” He says, pushing himself off of the locker he leaned against. “You were pretty bad yourself, if your reputation in Hybern has any truth to it, no one’s perfect” I look to the side. “I’ll see you around” Is all he says before moving to leave.

I don’t stop him, I only stare as he disappears down the hall before I remember I have a recording to stop and places to be. His words swirl in my head as I make my way there, fills the otherwise persistent silence in a similarly suffocating way, but not as numbing. This storm only clears once I sit down at his bedside and take hold of his rough hand.

The nurse’s words from last week comes to mind.

Talking could aid recovery. I’m still not entirely sure whether she said that to comfort me or it’s actually true, but now that I’ve spoken again, I realize I miss it. I miss talking to him, with words or not. I miss telling him about my day, miss having him there to discuss whatever with.

Standing, I head to close the door to his room, then dare to just lay my head down on the pillow beside him, while my body remains sat in the chair, my hand holding his. Then I just speak.

“I miss you, Azzy. I miss you a lot” Already, I feel my throat close as I let myself express the feelings that have retracted into the deepest depth of myself to keep me going. ”I miss coffee with you in the mornings, miss talking to you about everything and nothing, I…” I swallow down the lump in my throat. “Everything’s so… Cold without you… I feel… Empty… Lost… The circle is trying to help, I know they are, but… Come back to me soon, okay…? Your hoodie will only do for so long, you know” I sigh. “I wear it every night, I… Have nightmares almost every night… Nightmares where you… You don’t make it… Your heart stays quiet… You-” My voice cracks into a sob.

I take a moment to compose myself.

“I love you, I’ll wait for you, however long it takes… I… I’ll stay strong for you, I’ll try to…” I close my eyes. “Just… Come home…”

I stay laid there with him until the hour nears three and I’m forced to leave, kissing his brow goodbye, whispering that I’ll be back before he knows it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic scares me. It was supposed to be a destress book for me to work on when I grew burnt out on my actual book, it was all fun and games, I didn't even expect people to read it, but now there are those who do, and I'm terrified of messing up.  
> I'll keep writing, I have too much fun while I do to stop, I just felt like I needed to express this somewhere, and I'm sorry in advance if I disappoint.


	32. Staying strong

Tuesday morning, after briefing the circle about Eris through notes and the recording—which conveniently left out the part about my sister, and left them rightfully skeptical regarding Eris' truthfulness—I get an idea, a thought that brushes my mind, a foolish thing perhaps, but something I can’t stop thinking about. So I decide to go through with it.

Filip is surprised when I ask him to teach me to play the guitar, pleasantly so, and we spend the majority of the class going through the basics of chords and what tones you find where along the strings, in correlation to those on a piano. Sarah and the gang don't seem to mind letting me borrow him for the class.

When I get back from work later that night, I get to work on this idea, ending up tossing more scribbled papers into the trash than I successfully write, but it occupies my mind, distracts me from the pain that seems to constantly leak out at this point. It helps me sleep too, having this clear sense of direction once I head to bed.

Wednesday plays out about the same, and no one in the house questions why a guitar is being played in Azriel’s room between nine and twelve at night. I wonder if they’re just glad I’m doing something other than staring into nothing. I am too, honestly.

I keep this pattern, keep working every night on perfecting my finger-work, a slow process, but one I valiantly stick to, even when I get second thoughts about what I’m doing.

Once the weekend arrives, I visit Azriel along with the circle on Saturday, spend a few hours there with them before I join them on a trip to the gym, and after spending most of the evening refining everything, I ask Cassian the next day—using my voice—to drive me over to the hospital after lunch. If he wonders what I’m doing with Azzy’s guitar once we make to leave, he doesn’t ask. Hearing me talking again must have surprised him enough to disregard the why.

I ask to be alone with him, and he doesn’t question that either, just asks when he should pick me up, and I say I’ll text him.

He leaves then, and I head for Azriel’s room, making sure to ask through note if the guitar is allowed into the hospital. The receptionist I speak to just looks delighted that I’d be playing for him, that much like voices, familiar music helps stimulate the mind and helps recovery.

This time, I’ve actually looked it up, and studies show that she’s accurate, but it isn’t some magical cure. I’ll do anything to help him though. Not that this music will be familiar, but maybe I'll play some other things some other time.

I head for his room with just a sliver of confidence, step inside and feel it slip away as the pain of seeing his still static body in that bed slithers into my blood, but I close the door behind me, set the guitar down on one of the chairs in here and head to give his brow a kiss in greeting. Then I get the guitar out of the case, work to tune the thing for a moment as my hand quivers with nervousness.

“Good morning Azriel” I say, voice shaky. “Or afternoon, I don’t know…” I sigh, try to rid me of the nervousness, to regain that sliver of confidence. “I… I have something for you…” I begin, strumming idly on the six strings, reminding myself of the finger placements, the note placements. “I know we agreed that I’d do this when you played for me, but…” I reach for his hand and gently brush his fingers over the strings, creating a gentle tune. “I can count that for now” I smile and give his hand a kiss before replacing it at his side. “I’ll do this again once you wake up… I just… I need something to do, needed a distraction from everything, something to focus on…”

I swallow, clear my throat.

“I hope it’s not terrible…” And so I begin. Ever softly, I strum along through the intro, sing with equal softness once the words arrive, words I forged with him and I in mind, singing of how he helped me, gave me hope for a better future, that where he is will forever be my home. I sing of how imperfections do not invalidate us, that we don’t have to be perfect to be perfect for each other, that no matter what happens, I’ll always stay by his side, that I’ll wait however long it takes for him to come back to me.

I sing even as my tears turn my throat hoarse, even as my hand falters and I miss a chord, mess up a tone. It’s not perfect, not my vocals or my music, just like we aren’t, just like we’re broken but holding on, carrying on together, no matter what.

When I put the guitar away, I expect nothing grand, I don’t expect him to wake up and for all to be fine again, it wasn’t why I did this. I did this because I wanted to, wanted to do _something_ for him, anything, and found the process therapeutic, the execution as well.

I take his hand and lay my head down atop the pillow with him, feel his pulse beneath my thumb as I close my eyes and let my tears fall, imagining his heart beating in my ears as I lay there, waiting for him to come home.

  
  


Õ

  
  


Cass continues to be unquestioning once he comes to pick me up, nor does he comment on my lingering presence in the living room that evening after dinner, watching he and Rhys play smash together. They offer me a controller, but I decline with a shake to my head, not in the mood for it, but enjoying just watching, listening to them yell curses at one another. I sit there, stuffed in Azriel’s hoodie, feeling a little better without the silence of my lonesomeness.

I realize I fell asleep once I feel someone pick me up and carry me away, someone who carries me through the halls, up the stairs, and tucks me into bed.

“Goodnight sister” Cassian mumbles, brushing some hair out of my face before leaving me to sleep, and I feel the faintest smile tug onto my lips, lingering there as it all fades away.

That smile is gone the next day, replaced by a nagging worry, one I’ve been making sure to ignore to spare me the mental weight ever since Eris mentioned it. Cassian calling me sister rekindled the issue, reminded me of my own.

I’m not ready to face her, speak to her, but I can’t leave her in the dark either, no matter my strained feelings towards her, rectified or not.

All throughout creative writing, I contemplate what to do, get nothing productive done while I ponder, but figure I can catch up this afternoon with Azriel, his presence bound to help me focus. The circle discuss Eris and Hybern in hushed voices during lunch though, not by name, but through association, and it only worsens my worry. To the point where I can’t keep it in me anymore.

“They might know of my sister…” My tone is barely louder than a whisper, my mouth barely moving as I speak, yet all eyes focus on me immediately, their surprise clear.

“You have a…” Mor trails off, voicing everyone's thought, but quickly realizes where we are and shuts up.

We decide to have this conversation somewhere else, and as I have no classes after lunch, I don’t mind, even if it steals some of my time with Azriel. Either way, I hunker down in the armchair in the deeper depth of the quiet library, shielded by stacks upon stacks of old books of various nature.

“You have a sister?” Rhys begins, his tone quiet, but clear. I nod.

“Diana Dreever” I swallow down the strange taste in my mouth. “Eris said they might know of her… That they might… Hurt her too” Silence lingers between us all, glances being shared, thought wordlessly conveyed between some.

“It’s possible, but the question of motive still remains. We don’t know why they’re doing this, so we can’t be sure they’d target her too. Azriel could have just been a convenient opportunity for Amarantha to hurt not only you, but us as a whole” Amren speaks with focused clarity. “Do you have _any_ idea why they’d be doing this” I look down.

“Eris put the twins’ motives into words pretty well, they like watching people suffer, causing people hurt, but Amarantha… I don’t know why she’s getting involved, she wasn’t before. We crossed paths from time to time, during less than friendly encounters, but I don’t know why she’d go to these lengths”

“Amarantha isn’t the kind of woman who needs a lot of solid motive” Feyre points out, which Rhys seems to agree on.

“You could have just walked too slowly in front of he and pissed her off for all we know, Cauldron knows brawls have been started for less here...” Cass mutters.

“ _If_ your sister is in danger, how would we warn her?” Mor asks, her worry shown clearly on display.

“I’m not sure, I… I haven’t spoken to her for nearly twenty years” Cassian lets out a whistling sigh.

“Okay, that’s… How do we do this?” He addresses no one in particular.

“Anonymously?” Mor suggests.

“Would probably not be taken seriously” Rhys counters. “But approaching her openly would make her more of a target, at least if we do it, nor do I think she’d listen to us either way” His eyes settle on my. “She’d listen to you, though, you _are_ family after all, no matter how estranged you are, a warning directly from you would probably mean something to her” I gulp.

“I’m not…” I sigh. I’m not ready, but I’ll have to be, there’s no other choice now. “I’ll talk to her this afternoon…” Rhys only nods, as does Amren, while the rest of them look mildly concerned for me, at least show a mild version of what they might actually feel. I stand, my ascend holding more strength than I feel, more stability, but I don’t let the truth show. “I’ll do what I have to do” I force my voice to hold stable, to stay clear of the anxiety of the task before me, the uncertainty of my personal reaction. I'm pretty sure this won't last, but I'll try.

The circle answers with confirming, encouraging nods, and I leave them for the hospital without much else said beyond goodbye for the time being.

Once I arrive at his bedside—the door closed, leaving only he and I in solitude—I clasp his hand as I sort out the task before me in my mind, try to shove back my ingrained anger at my family, an anger honed from years of abandonment I feel should no longer affect me, but seems to have festered and shows no sign of healing.

Blocking it off seems to be my only solution, blocking everything out, and I work to fortify my walls for a moment, the walls my mind naturally crafts to protect me, but have been left in half ruins for some time now. Deliberately embracing the emptiness feels wrong, even if I’m not shoved as deeply into the void anymore. It still blocks out the light I’ve grown so used to these past months—a light which has slowly been seeping back into my bones with the realization that Azriel will most likely be okay before long—and I’m not sure how I feel about it.

Feeling that my walls are as strong as I can make them—and will probably break whatever I do, this basically stalling at this point—I clear my throat, leaving a slight crack in my wall to express to Azriel what I am to do.

“I have to speak with my sister” I begin softly. “She might be in danger, I can’t afford to be petty anymore” I squeezer his hand gently. “I’m scared” I admit, let the confession slip through the wall for a second before I shove it back down. “I don’t want to do this alone… But…” I look down to the hand I hold. “You’re here… Not mentally, but it’ll have to be enough…” I lift his hand and give his knuckles a kiss, lean my brow against them for a moment before I set it back down and reach for my phone.

I make myself an account on Instagram, give it my real name, not about to dance around that subject, though I don’t add unnecessary personal information because I don’t need that public. Then I get to her profile, note that she’s made some more watercolor paintings and posted more pictures of her cute cat, but don’t look closer before getting to her DM’s.

I get stuck there, staring at the text-box, at a complete loss for words.

A normal greeting should do, it’s all I can think of.

 _Hi_. It’s pathetic, how I clutch Azriel’s hand harder as I hit send and immediately turn off my phone, my heart beating irregularly as my nervousness and discomfort seeps through the cracks in my walls.

I let my thumb reach up to feel his pulse, focus on it, let it help calm me, replace the distress with unstable calm. I note that it feels… Stronger somehow, his pulse, but the monitor isn’t showing anything different, not that I can tell.

“I’m doing this” I breathe. “I’m actually doing this” I school my breathing to calm, work it back to evenness before I open my phone again and look at the message chain.

 _Stella?_ I gulp down the lump in my throat and let my thumb hover above the keyboard for a second.

Was… Was that what she called me? I… I don’t remember…

I don’t realize a wall has crumbled—that I’m hyperventilating—as I frantically search my distant memories, not before a deeper breath on my right catches my attention, and my eyes snap to him.

No movement, no sign of consciousness, but a soft sigh follows that deeper breath as he exhales, does so for a little longer than usual, the mist behind his mask lingering for longer. It completely wipes my mind clear.

“Azriel?” I ask softly, linger in the silence that follows, but it only goes on and on, no change, no nothing, just his breathing returning to normal, slow and even.

I suck in a deep breath and return my focus to my phone.

 _I think that’s me_. A decently polite way to say I have no clue who she is anymore, even if she happens to know me somewhat. I watch the dots of her typing appear, force myself to remain calm as I wait.

 _When’s your birthday?_ Ah, smart.

 _16_ _th_ _of May 1998._ She doesn’t type anything for a while.

 _What are our parents’ names?_ I take another deep breath.

 _Distant memories_ . I let just a sliver of ire slip out, but I hope it doesn’t show too clearly through text. _They called me Sunshine_ . I add, remembering the picture, hopeful it might help convince her. _Mom had blue eyes, dad had black like us._ I struggle to think of something more, am just about to add a thing about our hair, but she doesn’t give me the chance.

 _It’s you_ . It stops my trip down foggy memory lane. _It’s actually you_ . Her choice of wording implies she’s _glad_ to hear from me.

Then why hasn’t she gotten hold of me first?

I don’t really have social media, do I…

 _As I said, hi_.

 _Hello._ I chew on my tongue for a moment, trying to figure out how to get to the point as casually as possible, trying to hinge all the questions I inevitably have, questions that wouldn’t come out as anything good were I to ask them now. _Long time no see?_ I snort. She’s not making it easy to _not_ be pissed.

 _Haha, so funny_. Silence follows on her end, and I silently curse myself for letting my anger slip out for just a second there.

 _How are you?_ Even through text, the words feel hesitant.

 _It varies_ . I shove aside my desire to ask more personal questions and get to the point. _I didn’t message you to chat, I need to warn you._

_What?_

_People who don’t particularly like me might know of your existence, they might wish to hurt you._

_Actually?_

_Yes, stick to crowds you know, try not to go places alone._

_How serious is this?_ Does it sound like it’s a joke?

 _Someone’s been shot._ Silence.

 _Are you hurt?_ If we disregard the emotional hurt, no, not actively.

 _No._ Feeling my composure slipping, I decide to leave it at that. _I can’t talk more, just be on your guard._ I lock my phone and stuff it in my pocket with a deep sigh.

I look to Azriel, feel my composure—my walls—crumbling, and without any other option presented in my mind, I lay my head down atop the mattress, lay his hand atop my head and imagine he’s brushing through my hair, comforting me, begin there as he would were he awake.

It helps, a little.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This'll be my last update before I take a short break over the holidays, hope you can be patient with me for a few days.
> 
> (Fun fact, I wrote the song she sings beforehand because I thought it'd make it more authentic, so that exists. Not sure how I'd go about showing you guys, but if you have suggestions, I'm open for them).
> 
> Merry Christmas everyone, and stay safe out there <3


	33. Muted

The circle does not push about my sister once I arrive in school Tuesday morning, not after I assure them she’s been warned and has presumably taken it seriously. They go on to discuss how no one has been caught for the shooting, something I silently listen in on at my desk.

“I still can’t believe no one’s been caught ” Mor exclaims, exasperated and loudly so.

“It was probably the work of a professional, the chance that the police will catch anyone is slim to none” Rhys’ tone suggests he’s accepted this terrible fact, but isn’t pleased about it.

“Azriel’s contacts would be ten times more efficient about this” Mor continues to argue.

“Their methods would also be a tad more illegal” Rhys counters. “Until Azriel wakes up, we’ll stick to the legal system” No one seems willing to argue with him. I agree.

Nothing about the police’s inability to get to the bottom of this case surprises me. They couldn’t grant me justice before, and they can’t do it now. I won’t let it slide this time though, I won’t just leave it behind and try to run away from the issue. Once Azriel wakes up and is in decent health, I will do everything I can to help him get to these contacts of his and find his shooter. I will not give up again.

Not giving up currently means getting through the day, which goes fine, music class spent trying to translate the song I wrote for him onto piano, which turns out to be much easier than playing it on the guitar. It might be because I’m not singing, and that I’ve hardly played as much guitar as I’ve played piano, but still. My teacher likes the melody and chord progression, and since I haven’t been making a cover for my assignment, and he seems just genuinely happy to hear me playing again, he grades the song as my assignment instead. I can't complain.

Other than that, nothing significant really catches my mind, school's the usual, people mostly keeping their distance, and work is as tedious as  ever .

This continues through the week, my only updates on Azriel relayed through what everyone else share with me, especially Ramona after picking me up after work. Apparently he’s showing signs of increased brain activity  now that the doctors have fully stopped giving him this ketamin that kept him in stasis in the earlier stages of his recovery, to prevent him from waking up and accidentally tearing his intestines apart again. I wasn’t aware they kept him in an intentional coma like that— wasn’t told or just didn’t listen when it was said— but either way, when he decides to wake up is still up to chance, and a long process. These sighs and occasional spasms are said to be brief moments of consciousness, or something like that . What Ramona either chooses to ignore or not tell me is that there’s a high chance that he won’t be alright once he does  wake up .

Whatever brain damage he suffered could affect him physically through mobility and coordination issues, and atop of that it can have long-lasting effects on his psyche in whatever way. All this is treatable, sure, the brain is good at healing through different types of therapy, but… Just because he wakes up doesn’t mean everything’s okay again, he’ll have a long journey of recovery ahead of him. 

I don’t let this fact discourage me, spend my time with him on Saturday as always, telling him about how my week has been while working on my current English assignment,  about how his own schoolwork is being sorted and stored for him to work on once he recovers, that he’ll have time to catch up once he wakes up, that I know he can do it, clever as he is .  He remains unresponsive throughout it all, but I do note the deeper breaths he takes now and then. They startle me as much each time, but nothing comes of them.

Same goes for Sunday, spent by the window, basking in the sunlight while I type away at my computer, my psychology essay coming along nicely. The amount of material I take from personal experience and hide behind valid sources is pretty sad, but I try not to see it that way. 

It’s then—as I calmly work in the near silence of his room—that I hear this sound, different from his usual sighs, more like a displeased groan, and my eyes snap onto him immediately. And I watch is eyes lift into slivers.

I’m on my feet within seconds, my legs carrying me to the edge of his bed, a hand settling at his cheek as I angle his face to mine.  His eyes are like slivers of white and glimmering color against his olive skin, unfocused and glazed with a film that hints at a fuzzy state of consciousness. But his eyes, they’re his eyes, I’m looking into his eyes.

“Hey Azzy” I speak softly, my voice trembling as my thumb sweeps along his cheek. He might fade back in at any moment. Yet I can’t find the words, my tongue failing me.

There’s this sense of confusion in his eyes though. Fear even, of what he doesn’t understand. It helps my mind get on track.

“It’s okay, love, you’re safe. I’m here with you, I won’t let anything happen to you” I lean down and brush a kiss to his brow, grant myself the luxury of lingering with my brow against his, gazing deeply into those slivers of his, ushering light into my heart with every moment they graze me. Those eyes seem to struggle to remain open, but seem determined to try. “It’s okay if you need to sleep more, don’t worry, I’ll wait however long it takes, Azriel” I grasp the hand of his I keep in my lap, squeeze it. “It’s okay” Those eyes shut again, and I let out a shaky breath as my eyes sting with tears. I can’t quite decide if they’re happy tears or not. Both.

I move to stand, but as I loosen my grip of his hand, his grip tenses around mine, and I stop in my tracks, settle my eyes on him again. His eyes are just barely open, his grip already faltering. But the message is clear.

Stay.

I comply,  maneuver his arm to let me lay beside him, clutching that hand to my heart as my head rests on the pillow beside his own.  As h is chest heav es a sigh, that head falls to rest against my own, and I feel those tears in my eyes topple over. I close  them and try to just appreciate the moment, to keep my tears silent as I revel in the fact that he’s coming back, ever slowly. That however deep under the muting waters he is, however murky his world is in these brief moments of consciousness, he still wants me near, knows me enough to know that he wants me here.

He’s not gone, just lost, and I’ll do all I can to help him find his way back home.

  
  


Õ

  
  


Ramona finds me curled up at his side by the end of visitation hours, there to come pick me up. She seems surprised to find me smiling, even with the tears in my eyes, and ask s about it.

“He woke up” I tell her, watch her face shift into surprise, then delight which I see from my place with my face snuggled against his shoulder. “For just a minute, he was here” That bright delight calms into a gentle smile. I couldn’t care less about my position, the invasion of privacy having her see me like this feels like. “He didn’t want me to go” I snuggle closer against his shoulder then, his head still resting against my own.

“Visitation is over in ten minutes, Estelle” My heart aches at that fact.

“I don’t want to leave him” I mumble, like a child.

“I know” Her words are compassionate, understanding. “But we can’t fight the rules” I lift my head to look at here more clearly as she walks up to the other side of his bed.

“I don’t want him to wake up alone, he was so scared, so confused” Her eyes grow pained then, her hand reaching out to caress his cheek.

“You’ll see him again tomorrow, and I’ll be here every hour of the day that I’m allowed while you can’t. He won’t be alone for longer than strictly necessary” Her words bring some semblance of assurance.

With pain lacing every motion—tearing at my heart—I carefully get out of the bed, still holding his hand as I stand beside it, looking down at his now calm and serene face.  Uncaring of Ramona’s presence, I bring his hand up to my lips and give it a soft kiss before putting it back at his side, the void feeling brighter than before, the light a little closer.

Then I step to join Ramona on our way out of the hospital, every step hurting, my soul aching to be there with him, to be there should he awaken again, but life is not kind like that. I must relearn this fact. I mustn’t lose myself to the pain of it’s cruelty, but never forget it in favor of the blissful joy it sometimes gives. Either of those is a breeding grounds for pain, because life gives and takes, it’s an unavoidable fact.

But good cannot exist without the bad, there would be no concept of bad if there was no good. The two always tip over, fluctuate, how we handle that decides how it affects us. I have not been handling this well, but it could have been much worse, I know that. My fall was long, and I could have completely crumbled and hit the ground if it weren’t for my lifeline of hope and the people around me. In Hybern, when it happened, my fall wasn’t as steep, I hadn’t had a taste of joy since that one family with the mute kid—not in any significant way, at least—and thus, there was no drastic change in myself aside from the expected trauma.  I knew how to handle the nothingness, mostly, it was nothing new, and while it wasn’t this time either, it was sudden and unexpected, I wasn’t ready.

But I’m climbing back up again, and this time, I won’t forget that perfect doesn’t last, but I’ll do all I can to appreciate the time it does. Azriel and I might wish to last forever, but the sad, terrible truth is that eventually, we will die, and our perfectly imperfect life together will end. I try not to think too hard about that.

Dinner that evening is nice, I tell everyone at the table that he was there for a moment, eat a couple bites of potatoes, pepper sauce and this steak Cassian threw together today, and chug half a glass of milk. Then, I join Cass and Rhys for a couple rounds of Smash Bros, losing, but having just a glimmer of fun doing so.

As I head to bed for the night, stuffed in his hoodie as always, I think about those eyes, those lovely slivers I got to see. I may not have gotten to hear his heart yet, a fact which still haunts me when rooms grow too silent, but his eyes are a gift I will not brush aside.

Monday morning, I treat myself to a coffee while I work on the bit of work I didn’t get finished because of Azriel’s brief awakening, my focus more stable than it has been for what feels like weeks, the sound of the circle’s chatting near nonexistent.

I slip away to class eventually, pass Eris and a couple of his brothers, including Tallan. However, while Tallan seems inclined to stop me, do  _something_ , Eris grabs his arm firmly and stops him, an act I don’t let my gaze focus on as I move along, but note in the corner of my eye. I vaguely note him shaking his head before they all fully leave my view, and my mind drifts off to why he would do such a thing. He said he wouldn’t stop, that he had to keep doing what he does to keep his leashes on his brothers, but maybe he isn’t keeping them away for my sake in this case, but for theirs. He doesn’t want to seem like he was involved with Amarantha, so he’s making sure he and his fucked up family keeps their distance, which makes sense, I suppose.

I don’t ponder much more on the subject as I arrive at creative writing, sitting down and continuing on my assignment after acknowledging the teacher with a nod, and from there, the day goes on.

I’m quick to slip away after lunch, find my place at his side again, let my schoolwork wait for a little while while I sit there by his side, just holding his hand, brushing some hair out of his face.

Unable to really tear myself away from his side, and the space beside him offering enough to be decently comfortable, I get out my computer and work at his side. The doctors have said it’s fine for me to work in here with him, and as long as I don’t touch his chest—just to be safe—being at his side is fine too, so this works great. It’s a little uncomfortable to lean against the headboard of metal, and the hard wall, but it’s a price I’m willing to pay.

As the clock reaches one, I feel the weight of his head lean against my hip, and while a glance down reveals that he’s still very much asleep, or appears as such, he moved, and that alone is an improvement. I smile, let a hand of mine slip off of the keyboard and down to comb through his hair.

It might have been me causing a shift to the mattress and thus making his head roll closer, but I’d like to imagine it’s just him in whatever groggy state of conscience he rims.

“I’m right here…” I murmur, continuing my work with one hand while my other keeps brushing through his dark locks.

He makes a sound, one mostly muffled by the mask, but a distinct low groan, like he’s trying to answer, but can’t quite get it out of himself. It makes me smile, and I decide to give myself a break, setting the laptop aside to lay beside him instead for a little while, clutching his hand to my heart as I lay there, wishing for him to feel mine, hopeful it might work to assure him as his assures me. My other hand stays at his cheek, keeping his brow leaned against mine.

“You can’t talk with the mask on, love” I murmur. “But I appreciate the effort” Another low sound, and his eyes part into slivers, not really seeing. “When you get a better grip of your body again you’ll have it off, don’t worry, we can talk as much as you want then” For just a second his eyes seem to clear, focus on mine. “I have so much to tell you…” Good and bad things. “But first you gotta get better, so don’t mind me, just focus on yourself. I’ll still be here waiting, however long you need” I plant a soft kiss to his cheek, and watch his eyes close again as I do. “I love you” He lets out one last strained grunt before his face returns to the serene state of slumber, and I let myself believe that it was him saying it back.

Before I begrudgingly leave for work, I make sure to inform the staff that he’s coming to more and more, and they assure me they have him monitored closely whenever I’m not there visiting, apparently keeping their distance to grant privacy. It’s comforting  to know that he’s not alone, even when visitation is over.

As the days go on, everyone else go see him while I’m trapped at work. Their updates they give once I get home are nice though. Apparently, he’s fading in and out at increased frequencies, and for longer. He is starting to look at people with more clarity, but he hasn’t spoken, just intangible mumbles sometimes. Ramona looks a little extra concerned about that last part, but she says he’ll be alright, that it’s just the drugs lingering in his system making him fuzzy.

I don’t entirely believe her, but I choose not to push. However strong of a front Ramona puts on, I can tell that she’s worried about her son, that she’s not as calm as she tries to seem and I won’t add to her worries by discussing how he could possibly  _not_ be fine.

I focus on school, getting things done, making sure I’ve got the money for my rent, which is significantly lower this month since I haven’t really been living there, but eventually I will, and I need money saved for then as well.

I head over after lunch on Saturday, take a walk to the hospital, my eyes watching everyone with a wariness I have every right to feel. I get there safely though, greet the nurse at the reception with a wave before heading on up to his level and down the hall to his room.

There’s a nurse in there, and he’s awake, they’re helping him eat. His oxygen mask is gone,  his eyes look… Clear… And those eyes drift to me, making him freeze mid chew.

Clear embarrassment flashes in them, and the nurse look back at me upon noting his pause. She smiles, sets the liquid food of whatever kind aside on the bedside desk and stands to face me.

“Welcome back, Estelle” I grant her a nod. “He’s just having his lunch, I can leave you two after he's eaten, or now if you make sure he eats” I look to him, to those faintly hazy eyes, eyes that make my heart feel warm and bright, and I nod.

“I’ll take care of it” She nods and moves to leave, and I move to take her place at his side, my smile bright on my lips as take his hand in mine, the nurse closing the door behind her as she goes. “Hey” I breathe, letting one hand reach out to brush along his cheek. That flicker of embarrassment in his eyes fades into contentment one as I do, his head leaning in ever so slightly.

I feel about ready to cry, tears of joy that he’s back, I feel them stinging in my eyes. I try to keep them inside, but hiding joy is apparently much harder than hiding pain, and they slip down my cheeks despite my efforts.

Worry flashes in his eyes, but I smile, settle my hand at his cheek and just smile.

“I… I have so much to tell you” I choke out, brushing my thumb along his cheek “But… It can wait…” I look to the plate and spoon on the desk. “You need to eat” I reach out for it, let go of his hand to do so, but as I settle it in my lap, he gives me a look of clear refusal. “Don’t give me that look, she was feeding you for a reason” His eyes avert, grow distant for a moment. “You forced me to eat before” I mention, scooping up some of this soup I can’t name, I've never seen anything like it. “But I guess you weren’t feeding me by hand” He lets out a sigh, and I shift my teary eyes to him again, can’t help the smile at seeing his lovely eyes open and bright, brighter than last time, at least.

I lift a spoonful and motion it his way in question, but he shakes his head in refusal.

“Azzy…” I sigh. “Please” My tone is soft, pleading. He sighs what seems like a sigh of defeat, his mouth opening in acceptance, though his eyes are far from pleased about this situation. I give him a little at a time, let him take his time with each bite, no rush at all to be found. He doesn’t look particularly happy once the bowl is empty, but does look relieved for it to be over. I understand, I do.

I use a tablecloth to just wipe his  mouth clean, which he too isn’t much of a fan of, but I’m content as can be taking care of him like this.  I flash him a smile and toss the cloth into the nearby bin, then lay myself down beside him, clutching his hand against my chest just like the other times I’ve does this.

His head rolls to the side to lean against mine, his eyes closing with a sigh.

Despite myself, I yawn, and those eyes of his reopen, studying my face carefully, be his expression still clearly drowsy, tired. I answer his studying with a soft smile.

“I… Haven’t really slept much lately” I admit, and that face shifts into worry. “I… I’m okay… I’m better than I was, at least…” He doesn’t look quite convinced. “Your family has made sure of that” His lips part, as if he intends to speak, but he never does. He just closes his mouth again and gulps. It leaves me staring for a moment. “You can’t speak, can you” His throat bobs.

His expressions were a little off while he ate, like he couldn’t quite  control the muscles in his face. His motor functions have been damaged, his ability to articulate words with it, and possibly moving his body as a whole. This can be trained away, yes, I've read about instances of complete recoveries, especially amongst young people, but… His mind seems intact as a whole, as far as I can tell, leaving him a mind trapped in a body that doesn’t do what he wants it to. It’s bound to tear at him.

“Can you sign?” He blinks, looks down to the hand I hold against my chest, and I let go of it as I feel him move it, meekly.

He brings both of his hands out before himself, looks at them as if trying to figure out how to do this, like he’s going through what motions he has to do.

He starts  signing what looks like  _can’t_ , but his left arm starts trembling violently, fingers twitching spasmodically, and I gently grasp it and bring it back down between us as his right hand falls to his side on his own.

He simply stares up at the ceiling for a moment, eyes vacant in a way that makes my heart ache for him, the helplessness of this something I can't save him from, and I hate it. His lips part, and a slurred sound that almost resembles  _help_ slips out, but  would be impossible to distinguish if it weren’t for the helpless look in his eyes . I feel like I might completely crumble once I see his eyes gloss over with tears, tears of frustration.

I’ve never seen it, tears in his eyes. Not even as he was dying in my arms did he shed a tear, but here I am, watching one roll down his cheek as a strangled sob pushes out his throat.

I reach up and grip his cheek, lean his brow down against mine and carefully wipe those tears away, trying my best to hold it together to be his comfort in whatever way I can.

“You’ll be okay again, love, I’ll talk to your parents, I’ll, make sure you get the help you need, this can be worked on, you just need to give it time” Another slurred attempt at words, jagged as if he’s trying to figure out how to say what he wants said. “Just don’t give up, love, promise me you won’t give up” His mouth closes, his eyes close, and a nod is all he grants me.

I brush a kiss to his lips, their soft feel a relief after all these weeks, but the weight of what he stands to face downgrades it.

“We’ll do this together, we’ll get through it together” I gulp. “I might not be able to be here every day, but I’ll do everything I can to help you while I am, and research as much as possible while I’m not. This won’t break us, this won’t break _you_. Promise me that” He nods, faintly, but I deem it enough.

I can’t help but kiss him again, and I know he tries to return it, but even that isn’t quite cooperating with him.

“I love you” I breathe once we part. “No matter what, I love you, I’ll be here no matter the obstacle”

“I…” It’s airy, more like a breath, but I hear it, know what he’s trying to say even as his traitorous muscles make the words undecipherable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything might not be medically correct in this story, I'm not a doctor, but I do try to research the topics so there's some semblance of reality to them.   
> Either way, hope you like this sad but hopeful chapter of mine, I'll try to keep them coming


	34. Rhythm

It turns out Ramona and Rowan were very aware of Azriel’s issue, and had been purposefully keeping it from me to save me the worry. I’m not too surprised, for all they knew I was in a terrible place still—considering I hardly eat—another worry to weigh me down wouldn’t have helped, but they underestimated my ability to figure things out myself.

Either way, I won’t get hooked up on their secrecy,  they did what they thought was best, they didn’t even tell Rhys and the others. What matters is that he gets the help he needs, and the doctor currently speaking with the two is helping them arrange just that  now that he’s officially reached consciousness .

“He’ll require physical therapy and speech therapy together to regain his health, they are services we provide here, but it will cost a fair amount” He’s currently sleeping, completely relaxed where he lays beside me, my hand combing through his hair.

“Whatever the cost, we’ll do it” Rowan’s tone holds more emotion than I usually hear from him. The doctor only nods.

“If you come to my office, I’ll introduce you to the therapists before you make any final decisions” Ramona looks to me then, question in her eyes.

Will I stay here and watch him? Of course I will. Thus, my answer is a nod, and they leave to sort things out.

I’m perfectly content being here by his side. There are of course things I’d love to talk to him about, tell him, get off my chest, but after my many visits, a part of me feels like I have somehow. There’s no rush to let him know of all the terrible times I’ve pushed through, I don’t need him to know of my fall and plunge into the void, not now when I’m getting back up again and his need for recovery outweighs my worries. I can keep it in a little longer, in fact, I feel much better just knowing he’s actually going to live, that he’s awoken from this mess relatively unscathed. His heart is beating strongly in his chest now, even if I’ve yet to hear it for myself.

The guilt is the worst of it all though, is the hardest to brush aside in favor of enjoying my time with him, but wallowing in it is not what I wish to do, so I’ll do what I can to stay happy for him. I still feel the emptiness lingering at the edges of my being when he’s not around, even when I’m around the others, and I still find it hard to sleep, but I’m doing considerably better than a couple weeks ago, was starting to even before he showed signs of waking up. I think my mind just needed time to adapt to the lack of his constant presence, and while I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it—don’t want to—it’s important to have some semblance of independence, even in relationships.

I’ll always need him in my life in some way, but some time apart won’t break us, I know that now.  It’ll hurt, but we won’t break.

Some time later, Ramona and Rowan return with the doctor and two others, and I begrudgingly keep my distance to let the  _adults_ handle this as they wake him and inform him of what’s to come. He doesn’t look stoked to put his recovery in the hands of complete strangers—to be that vulnerable with them—but he also seems to understand that he lacks any other options. And thus the schedule is made, and once the doctors and therapists leave us to ourselves, Rowan explains the situation with school.

His hands still don’t always obey, but once he gets his laptop to try, he seems to get a general hang of it again—in short bursts—so working from here from now on is definitely doable, and as he has all his assignments stored on it, with instructions and all, I don’t think he’ll have any issues getting it done eventually. I’ll help him if I can, if he’ll let me.

  
  


Õ

  
  


News of his condition has reached the circle by Monday morning, and becomes the top subject of discussion, everyone eager to help in whatever way they can. The only way to really help is to encourage him to try and speak to us once we’re there, which they all seem to agree on. 

I aim to do just that after lunch—or just speak with him in general—headed his way after a mostly uneventful day in school, so much so that it’s starting to get suspicious. It’s not like nothings going on, I hear stories of NC students fighting over petty things like pencils or whatever, but I’m just never a part of those things, avoid most people in school valiantly enough to avoid that kind of thing. I’d expect Sarah and the gang to at least say hi when I pass them in the halls, but I haven’t really seen them in the halls at all, just in class. I wonder if their schedule has been jumbled around, making our paths cross less frequently.

It doesn't matter, I’m being left alone, and as long as I stay vigilant about things, I shouldn’t question it too much. My sister has been silent ever since our chat as well, but I keep an eye on her page to make sure she updates it still. She is, seems fine, so I don’t bother her either. My questions for her can wait until Azriel gets better,  and as long as Amarantha lays low, I won’t provoke her on purpose.

He’s seated almost upright today, his upper body perched up against a bunch of pillows, his computer and a bowl of lunch placed atop a strange desk that reaches out over his bed. He looks mildly surprised to see me, but his facial features don’t quite relay it, only his eyes do.

“My schedule’s been changed, so I come here after lunch every Monday” I explain, and a weak smile flickers on his lips. His hand pats the space at his side just enough to catch my attention, and I head his way, set down my bag on the floor and sit down with him, careful as I lean my head against his shoulder. He doesn’t seem to mind.

He’s working on refining that English  H istory essay they did last year, I gue ss the course wasn’t complete then, so they get this year to up their grades. He’s got a lot of new things to do, but I guess sorting out the smaller things to get back on track is smarter than throwing himself into the harder things immediately. According to the comments form his teacher, he’s got a strong B, just needs to refine some minor things to up it to an A.

“Anything I can help you with?” My own work is being sorted just fine, I’m efficient with my time, especially now when I know I can’t sleep much, so I don’t try until twelve, spending those three hours after work just studying.

He reaches out and slowly types out a sentence for me.

_Read and comment_ . I nod and settle the laptop closer to me. Meanwhile, Azriel slowly eats his lunch, every scoop slow and shaky, but refusing to give up.

I focus on reading, inclined to help him, but well aware that he needs to keep doing things for himself to stay sane through this. So I read, wholly intrigued by the subject of the civil war, a lot brought up in this essay of his that I don’t recall from middle-school when the topic was brushed upon.

The most surprising is the mention of the Seraphim. As far as I knew, the king who married one of the slaves they were fighting to free took his people— freed slaves and all— and settled down on the island Cretea stands upon now, conveniently called Cretea as well.  What I didn’t know was his involvement in completely running Hybern into the ground. 

Allied with the Equalists, fighting closely with the High lord of Night court and his army of Illyrians, they freed Hybern’s slaves and turned the capitol and land to near ashes in their wake. Few survived the carnage.

I don’t know enough about  the Seraphim to know whether they were a peaceful people back then—about five hundred years ago—but I didn’t think they were this ruthless. Healing and light, that’s all I know they stood for, but I suppose healing requires fighting.

I keep reading, mention what I believe the comments his teacher left mean, and give some suggestions of ways to improve, and soon he nudges his laptop back his way and gets to work on things. Every once in a while, I note him doing some clenching and unclenching with his hands, slowly and with immense focus in his eyes, and I figure it’s some exercise he practices to help keep them doing what he wants them to.

I get my computer too, give my temporary worksheet schedule out to see if I have anything immediately dire to sort out, finding nothing.  With a tired sigh, I lean back against the mount of pillows, closing my eyes, just resting them a little.

I can’t remember the last time I had a good night’s rest, not a true one. I’ve gone through this before though, a little lack of sleep is common in my life, so I function, especially now when I drink coffee again; now that my appetite in general is returning.

A hand angles my head upwards, and I open my eyes to find his looking down at me with gentle concern in his eyes. I smile meekly.

“I… Haven’t been sleeping a lot” I admit, but I’m a little extra tired today for another reason. “I also forgot my cream last Saturday, so I did it Sunday evening, which didn’t help with sleeping” His brows furrow, but it’s shaky.

Carefully, he brings his arm up behind me, resting over my shoulders, and carefully tucks me in against his side. I freeze, scared moving might hurt him, the doctor’s words about not touching hi s chest ringing in my ears, but he seems fine  as he leans my head into the crook of his neck and rests his own atop it, one hand continuing to work his computer.

“You… Aren’t in pain?” His hand pauses at his computer, makes a couple free rows and types out an answer.

_I get meds to dull the pain. It aches, but I’m not in any danger._ I smile, let myself snuggle just a little closer. I should encourage him to speak, but I don't want to ruin this.

“I’ve got to leave at three…” I mumble, my body slipping down a little, my head shifting over his collarbone and down towards his chest. 

_I’ll set an alarm._ He writes in assurance, grabbing my phone and doing just that for me.

“I didn’t-” I start to protest, but pause as I hear something beneath my ear. A strong, even thump. My eyes water, vision blurs, and my mind simply stops as I hone in on the rhythm.

Beneath his sick-robe, beating steadily and strongly beneath my ear, is his heart. It’s filling the silence with sound, filling the remnants of the void with a soothing lullaby that fills me with a relief I haven’t quite felt to this extent before. It’s confirmation that this is real, that he’s truly okay, that it isn’t some twisted dream I’ve yet to awaken from.

I completely forget what I was supposed to say, lend all my focus to listening as the silent tears slip down my cheeks.  I do note him writing a question mark on his computer, which snaps me out of my trance ever so slightly.

“I… I haven’t heard your heart since… It was so empty last time, it’s been so quiet ever since” My words jumble, don’t quite get to the point, but I hope he understands. “You were dead, you were gone” I breathe. “Your heart was gone” The words just start tumbling out, and his grip tightens around my shoulders just a tad.

_I’m alive._ He writes out.  _You haven’t lost me._ I lean in closer, try to hear it more clearly.

“It haunts me… The silence… The blood…” I shouldn’t burden him with my problems, I should stop. “I have nightmares where you die in my arms, where you never wake up”

_I’m awake, I’m okay._ He writes out in answer.

“How much do you remember?” He doesn’t type anything for some time.

_Little, it’s like an endless strange dream._ His hand starts cramping, and he takes a moment to regain control of it.  _You were here a lot, you spoke a lot, but the words are murky._

“I kept quiet for the first week or so, I don’t quite remember… But… I needed to get it out, the emptiness was killing me, I… I spoke about my day, how I felt, how I missed you… I wrote a song and sung it to you to get it all out” He seems to freeze then.

_You sung to me?_

“I’ll do it again sometime, don’t worry” My hand reaches up and mindlessly traces those swirls beneath his robe. “But… I shouldn’t burden you with this right now…” I sigh.

_I don’t mind._ His arm curls around and brushes some tears off of my cheek.  _I’ll always listen to you, don’t feel like you have to hide from me. We get through it together, remember?_ I close my eyes with a sigh.

“To keep going has been so… I’ve hardly had the strength… My guilt… It’s been eating me alive, it still is… The circle has tried their best, and it’s helped, but… I missed you more than I could stomach” For a moment, his hand just brushes along my cheek, a little jaggedly, but still with his usual softness.

_Why do you feel guilty_ . I let out a shaky breath.

“This wasn’t a random shooting, Az” I speak, my tone shaky. “We’re almost a hundred percent sure this was the work of a professional… Someone hired” His head shifts down, and I shift mine up to look at him. “I don’t know why, but Amarantha and her horrible _friends_ want to just ruin my life as thoroughly as they humanly can… Eris practically confirmed this” His gaze grows hard at the mention of him, the implication that he’s been approaching me. “They might have their eyes on my sister…” That gaze shifts into worry. “I’ve warned her” Then surprise. “I spoke to her a couple weeks back… Just the bare minimum to let her know it was me and that she could be in danger… I haven’t since, but I keep an eye on her… She’s fine for now” He nods slowly. “I have so many questions for her… But I think they might be better left unanswered right now… I’m not ready to face them and keep it together…” His eyes grow sad then, but I can’t quite pinpoint why.

He doesn’t type anything out to all that, perhaps not sure what there is to say. Instead, he leans down and brushes a kiss to my brow before nudging me to settle down more comfortably against him, so I do.

I guess he needs time to process things, figure out what to do with all this. Personally, I feel lighter now that I’ve shared these things with him, and listening to his heart helps amplify the feeling. So much so that it makes me drift off into dreamless sleep, where all those worries just peal away for my being, however briefly it lasts.

  
  


Õ

  
  


Tuesday morning, I’m helping the gang sort out some things for the Halloween part they’re signed up to perform at, something I will not, but will gladly help them figure out what to do for. They asked if I wanted to, but I declined, not about to steal Jellal’s job.  I’m content just being a part of the process for now.

I’m currently looking over a piano sheet for him  using the program Filip’s almost successfully taught me to maneuver,  trying to figure out what could be tweaked for maximum spook factor. The others are doing their thing, chatting and conversing as they go. 

Revealing the truth to them is becoming more and more tempting by the day. A part of me wants to be a part of this banter and fun, wants to throw in a comment now and then, but as it stands, I can’t. The main thing stopping me from doing it is the fact that I’ve upheld this lie for so long now, I’m worried they might hate me for it should I disclose it, but they seem to genuinely enjoy my company, they seem to like me.

I had the same worries with the circle, but there I had Azriel as leverage. He and I were close then, and thus the circle were more inclined to accept me. They also knew my reasons, understood them. I can’t be sure these people will do the same. I can’t be sure they know about what happened to me.  I’m not even sure I want them to know. 

The fact that they don’t  know  means I don’t have to worry about the possibility of pity, something I know most of those who do know feel for me to some extent. I don’t want them to pity me, I don’t want anyone’s pity. I just want justice, really—no matter how it’s served—for all the terrible things they have done to me and those I love.

I’m not hopeful that I’ll ever get this justice, but I’m not giving up, not yet.

An argument could be made that I could technically just tell them I can speak, reveal that fact, but then they’ll ask questions about  _why_ I choose not to, and weaving another lie is not a favorable situation either. Neither pure honesty or a white lie feels right, but maybe telling them my reasons are things I don’t wish to talk about could work.

I’ll give the thought some time to mature, maybe ask Azriel for whatever advice he can give.  Just discussing the issue with him helps me set my mind straight, even if he doesn’t always give straight answers, as clueless as I am when it comes to social situations at times.

“How’s it going?” Sarah asks, stepping up to my side and slipping her arm over the backrest of the chair I sit in. She startles me a little, as lost in my thoughts as I was, but I quickly compose myself and look up at her, giving her a thumbs up. “Give it a show” She leans down and does her best to follow my visual showcase of the minor changes I’ve done, nodding slowly as she goes. “Can I give it a listen?” I nod and hand over the headphones, pressing play for her, and soon she’s swaying to the music, her foot stomping in rhythm.

I think it’s musician syndrome, because my leg has been bouncing for the past thirty minutes in sync with this song. Or it’s my mild stress manifesting.

“I like it” She concludes, taking off the headphones, then looks towards the rest of the gang. “Hey Jellal, give it a listen!” He doesn’t look stoked as he stands and heads our way, but slips on the headphones once he takes them from her outstretched hand. I replay the piece for him, and I watch his mind process it all, noting my changes.

He’s good at this, he is, a jack of all trades when it comes to music, his range reaching from piano, to guitar, to violin, and even a bit of flute if he really wants to. Melodies are his specialty though, which is why Sarah always says I outrank him on the piano, because my ease with chords, mixing them together with melodies, but on the grand scale of things, this man is beyond my level.

“Sounds good, I could pull this off” He states, setting the headphones down on the desk, his brown eyes actually meeting mine for once. “Did you dumb it down for me on purpose?” He says, leaning against said desk, and I spin my chair a little to better face him.

He’s a lot taller than me—which isn’t really a grand feat honestly—but he’s especially tall now as I sit and he stands, but he’s not intimidating. His general disdain of me for my court doesn’t really bother me, the principle of it does though, that my court is all he sees in me, that the color of my uniform is all he really cares about.

I note Filip giving Jellal a rather pointed glare from his place with the electric guitar, and while Sarah is too preoccupied chatting with Julia to notice Jellal’s words, Julia is very aware, watching on warily.

Not granting him a sliver of anger or whatever he’s trying to provoke from me to prove whatever point he wants to make, I tug out my notebook and pen and write out a simple response.

_There’s beauty in simplicity. I only added what I felt would enhance it_ . Jellal reads the note with a pointed gaze, then looks to me again. 

“Sure, true, I guess” He mutters, pushing off of the desk. “Good work, Estelle, could you send it to the printer? I’ll go get it” I nod and sort that out immediately.

That— _he—_ is another reason I hesitate. He doesn’t trust me, and maybe for good reason, I have been lying to them ever since we met, and maybe it’s justified somehow, but it’s still a lie I don’t shy away from living. If Jellal were to find out, I have no idea what kind of friend she has outside of this group, and whether I can trust him not to tell them anything. The question is really if I wish for this lie to continue on the grand scale as well, but right now, I don’t want to know what kind of attention it would give me if it was spread across the school.

Even Eris and his brothers have not spread the truth around. I assume it’s because they want to have some kind of leverage against me one day, or want to use it for the perfect moment.  Jellal has no reason to keep it to himself, no ulterior motive, or any loyalty to me, so I hesitate.

I push myself back form the desk and spin around to look at my friends—yes, they are that, aren’t they—and I catch Filip’s mildly concerned gaze. I smile faintly in assurance, which seems to surprise him, which I suppose isn’t that strange, considering how I’ve been quite down lately—which is a terrible understatement. I reach for my notebook and write him a message I’m sure he’ll be able to read from where he’s sat.

_I don’t mind him_ . Who knows, maybe he’s got trust issues, something I’m pretty sure I have, but have definitely improved on over the past half a year or so. Jellal will come around, granted I give him a chance to see who I am, and he gives me the chance to show him.

Filip seems decently assured by my note, and I put the notebook away and tug out my phone to check the time. it’s around forty five minutes until class ends, and I’m not sure what else I’m to do here today. I guess I could help Jellal figure out the new stuff, if he wants me to.

He returns with the sheets and sits down by the piano to give it a go. I listen closely, but don’t comment on anything for a while, the mild mistakes he makes, give him a chance to figure things out himself. What fingers to use when is the main issue when working with chords and melodies together—to my personal experience at least—and he seems to be having the same issues. After about fifteen minutes,  I decide to rise and help him out.

Using visual demonstrations, specifying what fingers to use for each note and whatnot, I silently work him through it, and he seems surprised by my patience, seems to expect me to have some kind of outburst of irritation at any moment. I suppose NC students are known for short tempers, but I’m not really a NC student by blood. If anything, my Seraphim heritage makes me a better fit in the day court, or dawn, light and healing and all, but I suppose I’d be the moon of the night court, reflecting the light of the sun down over the otherwise dark night, but not unused to the darkness either, ever shifting in my radiance.

Azriel… he’d be the dark side of the moon  I suppose, if we’re going to be poetic. Thought to always be shrouded in darkness, but as reflective as the side we see, just not as openly.

What’s the sun in this case? Hope maybe. The end of the void itself, the force that keeps it away, I don’t know, I’m a psychology major, not a philosopher.

Jellal seems genuinely grateful for my help by the end of it, and his improvement with finger coordination is near instantly noticeable. Maybe there’s hope he’ll look past his grudges eventually.


	35. Markings

He looks utterly exhausted once I stop by on Saturday, having taken a walk here after lunch, not inclined to wait two hours for when the rest of the Noctis family are to come over.

He’s changed wing now—did so last Wednesday, if I recall correctly—has been moved to the more residential part of the hospital, for those bound for long-term stays. The room looks basically the same though, the general area’s just a little more populated by patients moving about their day, there’s even a cafeteria not far off that I passed on my way here.

Despite the clear exhaustion in his eyes, he’s typing away at his computer, probably doing all he can to catch up on his schoolwork. He smiles when he sees me in the doorway though, and I take that as invitation to enter, closing the door behind me. If you look past the exhaustion, he looks well, healthier, but he’s clearly getting worn down by the hours of training he goes through every day to get his muscles cooperating again.

“You look a little tired” I point out as I sit down with him, and he lets out a sharp breath through his nose that I figure is a laugh.

He pushes the desk contraption that reaches over the bed to the side and reaches out for me, pulls me in to lean against the headboard with him, tucked into his side tightly as his head leans atop my own. I only smile and snuggle right up.

“Training a pain?” I ask softly.

_Yes_. He signs, and I smile wider, glad to see that he’s gotten better grasp of his hands, at least.

“Are you physically in pain?” He signs another yes. “Muscle aches?” He hums faintly then. “Where?” He motions at his legs, his arms, his abdomen, his face. He’s been getting a full body workout, it seems.

It shouldn’t be something he’s unused to, but maybe the kind of practice he’s doing is different, focusing on the smaller muscles you usually miss, don’t actively train but do a lot for your body’s coordination.

“What’s the worst?” I ask softly, and his hand lingers at his face. “Are you allowed to move?” He nods. “Scoot down” He shifts to look at me, his eyes questioning, but I shift in my seat, tug off my shoes, cross my legs, snatch a pillow and set it in my lap, then motion for him to lay his head down on it.

As he realizes what I want and slowly moves to allow it, I scoot inwards to center myself on the bed a little more, then get comfortable against the pillows stacked along the wall. Once his head settles down in my lap with a sigh—seeming pretty comfortable—I brush my hands through his hair in a gentle massage, noting it’s been cleaned.

“You’ve had a shower” I point out as my hands sneak down to give his face the same treatment as his scalp. His cheeks flush a shade darker, but his eyes remain closed. “Have you been on your feet” He nods softly then. “That’s good…”

He practically purrs as I get down to those flushed cheeks. Facial muscles can get muscle ache too I suppose, otherwise smiling wouldn’t get as painful as it does after some time.

“Any word on how long you’ll be staying here?” He shakes his head. I sigh. “Your bed will continue to feel lonely for a while yet, then” I mumble, and his eyes open, hazel looking up into my own. I catch the silent question. “I’ve been living with your family for the past… Month? Yeah… Your bed isn’t getting less lonely, and your hoodie’s starting to lose your scent, because Ramona _insists_ she wash it _at least_ once a week” He blinks, seems at a loss. My face breaks out into a smile then. “You’ve been missing out…” He nods slowly, which makes me laugh ever softly, but I focus on giving his face the care it deserves after all the work he’s done and let it fade into that smile again.

He sighs, in what sounds like both content and exasperation, like the thought of having me in his bed for a month straight but not being there to experience it truly pains him, but being here with me now is also good enough in his book. I agree completely.

After some time of silence, I decide to break it in favor of conversation.

“I’m considering telling Sarah and the gang that I can speak” I say softly, and his eyes part to look up at me. “But I’m scared it might ruin things…” A brow of his twitches. “I don’t want them to hate me for lying… And I’m not sure Jellal will care enough to keep it between us… He’s not particularly fond of me” His lips part, but whatever he was inclined to say, he seems to think better of.

_Why?_ He signs instead.

“As a summer court guy, he has a slight grudge against NC students” Azriel’s face grows understanding. “I think it’s mainly Cassian’s fault” I say with a soft grin, and Azriel lets out a snort. “He could just have trust issues though, so I’m giving it time… But I think I’ll tell them soon, before Halloween” He nods, leaving the choice up to me, but showing me he supports it. “I figure you’ve been to the annual party before” He nods. “Is it fun?” He shrugs.

_Decent._ He signs, then seems to hone his gaze on me. _Probably_ _m_ _ore so with you there._ I smile.

“You’ll go with me? If you’re better by then” He nods. “Do you dress up for it?” He nods again. “What do you usually dress up as?”

_Illyrian._ The actual mythological being, I assume.

“Guess I should be a Seraphim, then” I look thoughtfully to the window. “I wonder where I’d find a costume… Mor might be able to help” Azriel nods in confirmation, and I reset my focus on him, my hands slipping down his neck, down towards his shoulders. “What does an Illyrian costume entail, if I may ask”

_Leather armor, wings._ I smirk.

“Sounds interesting… I look forward to seeing it” He flashes a faint smirk then as well. “Anything you need help with while I’m here? Before the rest of your family arrives” He shakes his head, but them seems to think of something, and pauses, looks towards the wheelchair tucked into the corner and gulps.

_The bathroom._ My eyes settle on the armchair as well then, realize what he’s implying.

“Am I even allowed to move you?” He nods.

_Ramona does it all the time._ I nod cautiously.

Carefully, I lift his head and slip away from the bed, heading for that wheelchair while Azriel, pushes himself closer to the edge of the bed with strained sighs accompanying every push. His wounds may have healed internally, but he definitely still feels pain from his injury. I wonder how much pain he’s actually in, but isn’t telling me.

“You’re sure this is fine” I question again as I roll the thing to the bed, in a place I’m fairly sure I’ll be able to help him get to, not too far, and not too close. I make sure to lock its wheels in place as well.

He nods and pushes himself up to sit at the edge of the bed, and I instinctively get to his side and hold him steady.

Getting him into that chair is scary, and even while he’s heavy to keep supported, I manage alright. He soon settles in it, the faintest hints of embarrassment flickering in his eyes as he looks down himself, looks at the robes the hospital has given him to wear. I guess it’s more convenient than bothering with real clothes. I wonder if having his hands in the open bothers him.

“Do I drive you, or do you want to get yourself where you want to go?” I ask, brushing through his messy hair—caused by my previous combing—attempting to fix it.

His hands reach for the wheel locks and frees them, his shaky, but obeying hands soon getting him rolling. I follow at his side, greet the nurses outside with soft smiles as we pass, none commenting that he’s up and about, which silently assures me that this is perfectly fine.

We get to the array of bathrooms this wing provides, the rooms too small to hold their own personal ones, and Azriel looks to the one with the handicapped sign, then looks to me.

“Have you got this on your own, or should I…” He gulps, his embarrassment clear in his eyes. I sigh and crouch down before him, taking one of his hands in mine. “I don’t mind taking care of you, don’t worry… But if you’re not comfortable... How about you just don’t lock the door, in case something happens, so I can come in and help you, I’ll stay guard outside” He nods, and I stand, let go of his hand and place it at his cheek instead as I plant a kiss to his forehead.

We execute the plan, and he seems to do fine on his own in there while I keep the door guarded for him. He’s soon sorted, and the two of us make for his room again.

He doesn’t want to get back into bed once we arrive, more inclined to sit by the window, so I push aside one of the chairs by the table to give him space, then take a seat at the other end with him.

“Is there anything you’d like me to bring here for you?” He shifts his gaze from the mildly cloudy day outside and settle sit on me, seems to think about it.

_Gloves_ . I figured as much. _Maybe the guitar_. I smile

“I’ll get it done, or send Ramona, we’ll see” I look out the window then, as does he. “You know… Even if everything kind of… Went to shit, I still really loved going to that concert with you…” I haven’t really been thinking much about the happy part of that day, but now, here with him, seeing him up and about, staying strong, it helps keep my mind focused on the good. “I wish things wouldn’t have gone as they did, and maybe they wouldn’t have if we hadn’t gone… But it was the greatest gift you could have given me, that experience…”

His hand reaches across the table and takes my hand. His eyes hold a promise, a promise that it won’t be our last adventure together, that soon enough, we’ll be back out there, exploring the world together. I smile.

“I love you…” I mumble. “I’m sorry I put you in this position…” His other hand reaches out for that hand as well, and his elbows support his body as he brings it to his lips and gives it a soft kiss. He doesn’t let it go as he lowers it, and I take the chance to intertwine my fingers with his.

“I…” The word is airy and weak, and I watch him hesitate. “Luf…” See the frustration in his eyes as he can’t quite get the pronunciation right. “Yu…” Just hearing his voice, however broken, makes me smile, my eyes welling up with tears. _Please_ _d_ _on’t blame yourself for this_. He signs in continuation, making those happy tears mix with a couple droplets of pain.

“I… I’ll try… For you…” He smiles faintly.

Azriel seems content to just soak up the little sun there is, so I get my computer and do some work I need done until the Noctis family arrives in their entirety, even Rowan.

Ramona doesn’t waste a moment giving Azzy a hug, and Cass and Rhys greet him with a couple pats to the back, at which Azriel only smiles. Razie just smiles at her brother, sticking to her father’s side.

We decide to go to the cafeteria and have some pastries, and as I munch away at my cinnamon bun, Azriel looks happy listening to his brothers’ stories about school and everything they’ve been up to. I’m glad he’s finding the light in this.

  
  


Õ

  
  


I don’t know what to do when I get back “home”, so I decide to just lay down in Azzy’s bed and scroll through my phone, more specifically, Instagram. I’ve never been much for social media, but there are a lot of pretty pictures on here. I also keep an eye on Diana, passively, and her newest photo reminds me of something I thought of long ago, but has slipped my mind ever since.

She has a tattoo curled behind her ear, one that looks like a bunch of feathers tied to a string, almost like an old dream catcher, made from white ink and details of gold. Scrolling down to some of her summer photos, I discover that she’s got a pair of small white and gold wings tattooed onto her back, just bellow her neck. I assume they’re some kind of Seraphim tattoos, and it gets me curious.

I decide to do some digging, and I discover that Seraphim indeed have a certain style of tattoos that are generally tradition for them to don. Unlike Illyrian tattoos, which often look like swirling shadows from what I’ve gathered, Seraphim tattoos are more vertical stripes or geometrical shapes, like circles and triangles, simple. More modern iterations often have clear feathers intertwined with the designs, and some more curves, but simplicity is the common theme. The color of the ink seems to usually be a combination of white and either gold or silver detailing.

I find some interesting ones, like full back wings that have a more abstract design, more traditional, no feathers, but pretty, and I find some simple bracelet tattoos I like as well.

The wings seem to represent freedom of spirit from the page I find about the things. The smaller ones—the rings they would have around their wrists or other parts of their bodies—were tallies for their victories in battle, or marks of a bonding promise between two people, it’s pretty ambiguous on that part. Some tattoo rings onto their ring-finger when they get married instead of buying actual rings, which is cool I guess. It’s probably cheaper too.

I’ll think about it, but I’ll definitely want some kind of tattoos at some point, stealing these designs on here feels wrong though, because apparently Seraphims historically designed their own tattoos once they came of age—whatever that means—so I should probably sketch out some ideas of my own as well. Diana has definitely designed her own, if her artwork posts has anything to say about it, ‘cause those wings looked like her style, as did those feathers behind her ear.

I may not have been raised Seraphim, but it’s not too late to learn about my culture, be a part of it.

Feeling inspired, I get up and search Azriel’s room for some blank paper, a pen, an eraser, and a ruler. I eventually find all of the above and seat myself at the free part of his desk, staring to sketch out some designs from the top of my head, trying my best to stay true to tradition. It keeps me occupied for a while, hours actually, and I burn through a lot of Azriel’s paper as I explore my options, trying to make sure it’d actually fit on my back.

I’ve settled on one thing though, white with details of silver is more of my style, goes well with my hair as well, and eyes, as they are—while mostly black—speckled with silvery gray, and some gold, sure, but I don’t really like wearing gold. the color also blends with my skin too much, I’d say.

“It’s dinner in… What are you doing?” Cassian cuts thought the silence, apparently having bypassed my defenses and slipped through the door without me noticing. Not surprising really, I was quite focused.

I look to him, find his eyes fixed on the mess of sketches on the desk, some even on the floor apparently, I find out as I look back down at my work.

“I’m drawing tattoos” I admit as Cassian steps inside and picks up those that have fallen to the floor.

“These look great!” He flips through them, and look genuinely intrigued by them. “They remind me of mine, kinda”

“They’re Seraphim tattoos. Well, they’re supposed to resemble them, I’m not sure I’m doing it right” He sets them down on the desk and looks at some of the others. It makes me a little unsure, but Cass looks too infatuated by them for me to bother.

“I keep forgetting you’re one” He pick up one of the ones I like the most at this point. “Which is stupid, cause you really look like one” I smile at him. “But you’re making your own?” I nod.

“It’s apparently tradition, from what I read. Do Illyrians not design their own?” He leans back against the desk.

“We do, sort of. We make drafts, but a real tattoo artist refines them and makes sure it doesn’t look like shit. If not, mine would be terrible” He laughs, and I do so softly along with him.

“I’m sure Seraphim do the same, not all of us can draw”

“Yeah, true, but you don’t really need professional help from what I see here” He sets down the sketch with the rest. “But dinner’s ready” I nod and rise, joining him on the way down to dinner.

  
  


Õ

  
  


I deliver Azriel’s gloves and guitar the next day, and while he tugs on the gloves and sets aside the guitar someplace where he can reach it, I look through the photos I took of my sketches, unable to pick one I like the most. I’m hopeful he might be able to give me some guidance.

“Could you look at something for me?” I ask as I sit down at his side, and Azzy nods while his arm snakes around my waist and tugs me closer. I present the phone then, and he shakily takes it from my hand. “They’re tattoos, if you couldn’t tell… I’m not sure which one I like the most” He flips between the four options I show him, and while he looks at all of them with the same calmly intrigued eyes, I note that he looks at one a for a little longer than all the rest.

I like that one as well, a lot, find the sharp edges and lines combined with the circle details to be simple, but elegant. From the look Azriel gives me, he likes that one as well.

“I’m not sure when I’ll get it, but at some point, I just got inspired last night” I take the phone back and stuff it in my pocket. “You might be out of blank paper” I state calmly, looking up at him with a smile on my lips. He grins, manages to, though his lips twitch a little with strain.

Leaning down, he snatches a kiss from my lips, one I gladly accept, and despite the fact that just about anyone could glance through the window on his door and see us, I let it linger however long he wishes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy late new year everyone!  
> Updates might be slow from this point on due to some minor writers blocks, but I'll work through it, don't worry, this isn't getting discontinued any time soon. Definitely not now that I've got a clear ending to this book planned out. I'm also juggling ideas of continuations, but we'll cross that bridge when we get there.


	36. Poisonous

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !TRIGGER WARNIGN!
> 
> I'm pretty sure this needs a trigger warning, read with caution if sensitive subjects disturb you.

Cassian and the rest of the circle snatch me away for the gym later that afternoon, and I spend it working myself to the bone in the name of Azriel and his own daily struggles. It’s delightful to watch Cassian sort of flinch at the force of my punches and kicks, proof that I’m getting stronger little by little. Once my arms can’t swing any longer without risking injury, I resort to the treadmill and go for a long run of endurance, the others doing some circle exercises, literary, taking turns using some muscle building machines. I would do the same, but I need endurance as much as I need muscle mass, so this will have to do for today.

I’m exhausted by the time we decide to head home, and while it’s a little embarrassing, I don’t take a shower until I get back to the Noctis house, more comfortable that way, and after dressing myself in casual tights and Azriel’s devouring hoodie, I sit down on the couch in the living-room with a sigh, Rhys the only other resident there today, flicking through his phone, though he greets me with a nod once I sit down, a nod I tiredly answer with one of my own.

It was really strange to live with them at the start, though I didn’t really think about it much until about a week in. Now though, it feels… Not normal, I wouldn’t go that far, but it doesn’t feel odd to have the constant company around me, should I want it.

I tug out my own phone to join him in this silent browsing—or whatever he’s doing—but the first thing I find on my lock-screen is a dm from Diana, and I freeze for a solid second before I take a deep breath and press my way to the text chain.

 _Anything specific I should be looking for, stranger wise?_ A valid question, I guess. I take a moment to figure out what to answer her, considering every word and what it might sound like to her, intending to keep my cool for as long as possible.

 _I don’t know, we think the shooter was hired, I’d assume the ones who sent them will continue to let others do their dirty work._ A polite enough answer.

 _Should I warn our parents?_ The usage of _our_ irks me to the core, and an instant chill falls over my features. I note Rhys casting me a glance from his place at the other end of the couch. Her words confirm that they’re alive though, which I can’t decide whether it infuriates me more or not.

 _Have you told your parents about me?_ Her answer is quick.

 _No._ This surprises me. _I haven’t had a chance to speak with them._ Curious.

_Keep it that way, but warn them._

_Why?_ Oh what a _great_ question. I take a deep breath, and again, Rhys seems to cast a glance my way.

 _Why do you think._ Passively aggressive enough, I’d say. It keeps her quiet for some time. Long enough that I set aside my phone and resort to silent brooding with my hands in the hoodie pockets, my body nearly devoured by the dark fluffy fabric. My phone eventually blips though, and I give it a cold look.

 _You don’t know why they did what they did, Stella._ My ice harden.

_No, and I don’t care for their excuses, no words can justify twenty years of silence._

_You never got in touch either._ That ice turns into cold untamed rage.

 _You think I knew_ how? _You think I remembered your_ names? _Your_ phone numbers? _I was_ three _for fuck’s sake._ My hands have begun shaking, and my filter has completely dissolved into icy mist. _You think I even_ wanted _to speak to the people who_ abandoned _me?_

_You don’t know the full story._

_I don’t_ care _for the full story, I don’t_ need _it, I don’t need_ you _,_ any _of you, I’m just making sure you don’t die so it doesn’t taint my conscience_.

“Estelle?” I ignore his cautious words.

 _You’re angry, I get it, and we fucked up, royally, in every way possible, but at least try and see reason for a second._ My vision is lined with this haze, this familiar cold darkness locking my eyes on those infuriating words of hers.

 _I don’t want to hear it_ . I don’t think I’d be able to do so without losing my mind. _I can’t hear it right now_. If I haven’t already.

 _I get it, maybe we can have this conversation face to face someday, it’d be easier._ I just stare at that text. _Goodnight for now, Stella._ I don’t answer, I just violently lock my phone and shove it into my pocket, standing and striding for the door without giving Rhys and his questioning look a glance.

This rage, I haven’t truly felt it in years, not to this extent. Despair and grief and pain, yes, plenty of that regarding this subject over the years, but not rage, I haven’t allowed myself rage in a _long_ time. I haven’t felt the need to break something this badly in _years_. I haven't had to fight the urge in so long. I don't think I can now.

Entering Azriel’s room, I slam the door shut behind me, that alone taking the edge off just a little, but the urge to _hurt_ something makes my fingers itch in a way that’s consuming after all these years. I’ve been so good at repressing it—the true cold of my rage—smothering it with emptiness—or more recently, heating it with happiness—that I’ve forgotten how hard it is to thaw once it freezes over, and control without a clear purpose to. Allowing myself to feel must have slowly broken down it’s baseline barriers, leaving me vulnerable to it’s chilling claws, especially now when happiness isn’t as easily available to keep it at reasonable temperatures. Because joy with the circle isn’t the same as happiness with Azzy, it just isn’t.

There’s nothing in Azriel’s room that I want to break, nothing that my narrowed mind can render as useless junk I won’t miss. Because everything in this room is something of his. It leaves me stood in the center of it, with only one thing my mind still happens to deem disposable.

Me.

My right hand moves by it’s own accord, makes a quick, vertical scratch down my left wrist like so many times before when I found no other option as a young, frozen mess of untamed anger, born from the abandonment and pain I couldn’t even begin to dissect as needed, still can’t. The darkness around my vision grows deeper, and I’m not entirely present as I do it again, and again, the stinging pain not quite registering.

I’m panting once the darkness retreats, the pulsing pain at my wrist hitting me full force, and I slowly lift it up to observe, my body shaking as I behold the damage. Only certain parts break skin, leaving the faintest trickle of blood, but all the marks are red and angry none the less. And they’ll leave marks on my newly tanned skin for a while.

The hot regret that douses me instantly melts the rage into tears. Hot, heavy tears that have me choking on sobs as I clutch my wrist with my other hand, trying desperately to rub the blemishes away, but it only seems to make it worse.

I didn’t realize I was moving while doing it, but my legs hit the edge of Azriel’s bed, and I sink down, my body hunched over as I drown in regret and guilt, the words I sent her whispering in my head like taunting mumbles, reminding me of how terrible of a person I am. Because they were all lies, they were all _fucking_ lies. The only thing I ever needed in my miserable life was a family; to be love d . I have that now, a makeshift family and a love I’ll never undermine, but it doesn’t bring the wound in me true closure, not quite , it’s still itching inside me, leaking lethal, venomous cold into my blood, and I want it _gone_ . Not just _repressed_ . _Gone._

I don’t want to be like this.

I want to be better than this.

Rage can be used for good, be controlled, but this isn’t that, this isn’t it. This is rage born from a festering wound, not a will of good.

I’m still clutching my wrist when the door opens, still crying my damn eyes out as whoever they are slowly approach, my breathing an utter mess. They crouch down before me, force their way into my blurry line of sight, and all I really make out is the hints of violet eyes.

They’re not the eyes I crave, _he_ not the presence I want here with me. Yet at the same time, the thought of Azriel seeing me like this is repelling, because I’m utterly embarrassed and wouldn’t want him witnessing this. But I need him, there’s a distinct difference. I mixed them up while talking to my sister.

I don’t want answers, because I’m not sure I could stomach the truth. I don’t want them in my life, because I’m angry, and irrationally so. But I need them, I need the truth to truly heal.

“Who were you talking to?” Rhys asks cautiously, his eyes briefly glancing down to where my hand clutches my wrist with a shaky grip.

I can’t speak, my throat closes in on itself when I try, and I end up choking on my pathetic sobs.

Rhys lets out a soft sigh and pulls me into a hug, probably aware that he’s not the comfort I need, but the only one available right now, and my only hint at acceptance is how my head falls limply against his shoulder.

“Not Azriel, I hope” I shake my head. “Good…” He sighs. “Did you hurt yourself?” I hesitate, but nod eventually. “Badly?” I don’t give a clear answer to that, and he gently sits me back to hold my own weight, his hands gently prying my hand away from my wrist to assess the damage. I can’t see his face past the blur of tears, and a part of me is glad. I don’t want to see the pity I’m sure I’d find there. “I’ll be back” He stands, heads for the door, and all I can think is _please don’t tell anyone else._

He returns an undecided amount of time later, and by then I’ve deigned to wipe my eyes somewhat clean, and my more violent sobs have ceased, the tears mostly dried, it all leaving a terrible, familiar headache pounding away at my temple.

He crouches down before me and gently runs a wet cloth over my scratch marks, and I hiss at the sting, clearly some alcohol to the cloth.

“You’ll thank me later” He says calmly in answer to that hiss. “Is this common?” I shake my head.

“It’s been years” I finally find my voice again. “I wasn’t ready, I-I couldn’t fight it, I didn’t-” My voice cracks, and I focus on breathing for a moment.

“It happens to the best of us” He mumbles, and I settle my eyes on his for a moment, meet the pained gaze of his that speaks volumes on its own, no need for further elaboration. He lowers it again quickly, returns his focus to the angry marks. “I won’t ask why, it’s not my place to pry, just know that I get it” He removes the cloth from my arm and stands, and I watch him through my lashes, unable to lift my heavy, pounding head. “Rather yourself than someone else...” The words hit me like a slap to the face. “I’m just down the hall if you need anything” And then he leaves, having done all he can to smooth over this terrible incident I utterly hate myself for getting into.

I shouldn’t have answered her here, I should have been with Azriel when I did, I should have waited, he would have calmed me by nature. Damn it. I’m such an idiot.

  
  


Õ

  
  


I couldn’t sleep, my mind continuously haunted by my stupidity alongside my usual nightmares, and it leaves me a caffeine zombie all throughout the school day. Rhys doesn’t mention what happened, only regarding me with wary eyes once while I was sipping my coffee in the morning, completely aloof and unresponsive to the circle’s usual morning conversation. My long sleeves expertly hide the marks, so no one sees and asks either.

They’re not as bad as they were the day before, but looking at them brings fort a similar kind of hatred my shoulder still does to an extent, so I don’t. The difference is that these will fade eventually, if I don’t pick at them, so I ignore them as best I can.

I eat during lunch, not as much as I used to, but no less than I usually stomach these days, so no one has reason to comment, figuring I just had a bad night, which isn’t uncalled for. I’ve had many of those lately.

Once freed from school, I hesitate at my locker, unsure whether I want to face Azriel like this, tell him of what I did, if that’s a concern he needs on his plate. I’m not even sure he’s free from his training right now. He was last week, but is he today?

I’m stalling, being a coward, I know that, I feel it, so I suck it up and get my things and head to see him, unable to deny that I need to. Hiding things didn’t get us this far, I need to trust him with everything, I _want_ to trust him with everything, and I do. I do… This just… I’ve never had to deal with this, expressed it to someone as openly as I’ll have to with him.

Still, I head to the hospital, too tired to greet the nurses as I usually do, at least beyond a nod of acknowledgment, and to my relief, Azriel’s having his lunch by the window when I arrive, seated in his wheelchair, looking free enough. He looks more comfortable dressed in his pair of gray sweatpants and lose black shirt, along with the gloves.

He notices me through the reflection in the window as I close the door behind me and steps inside, and he turns to look at me, eyes bright with a clear delight to see me, but it fades into worry the moment he notices the blank look in my eyes that I can’t get rid of, his brows furrowing faintly, hinting at silent question.

I gulp, feel a rush of stinging pain well up in my chest, my eyes, and I can’t repress the tears that slip down my cheeks.

“I did something dumb” My voice quivers as I speak, my legs unstable beneath me, which I could blame on the long walk and the time spent at the gym yesterday, but know is probably a mix of that and my distress.

Azriel rolls back from his seat by the window table, facing me, his lunch forgotten, and slowly, he makes his way towards me.

“I spoke with Diana” His eyes widen then. “I got so angry, I-” My voice cracks, and he hurries his approach and grabs my hand, coincidentally, my left hand, and I flinch as he tugs me down towards him, which makes his worried look deepen into obvious distress.

I don’t have time to protest as he grabs my other hand and wills me into his lap, his left arm wrapping tightly around my waist to keep me closely leaned against his chest, something I allow even as my mind protests with the fear of hurting him, because I need this, I need him to make me feel okay again. His free hand grabs my left wrist, carefully rolls down my sleeve and reveals the marks for him to see. I just watch them blankly, my vision too blurry with tears to really see.

Azriel seems stunned by the sight for a solid couple seconds, his gloved thumb ghosting over them without really touching, and I just bury myself deeper into the crook of his neck as shame weighs me down.

He carefully sets down my hand in my lap and uses his feet and free hand to slowly bring us to the window again, to the light, the comforting light of the sun aiding the comforting nature of his warmth. When there, wheels locked in place and secure, he reaches up and wipes my cheeks clear of tears, seems to find his glove in the way and uses his teeth to tug it off, then proceeds to wipe the rest of my tears away with gentle care, though with the occasional involuntary twitch, but I don’t really notice, or care. I’m just glad to be in his arms, really. I wish I’d been yesterday.

 _Speak._ He spells out with his hand, unable to really efficiently sign for me from here. It’s a demand, but I know it’s meant as a request for me to tell him what happened.

I can’t find the words, so I decide to show him instead, tugging out my phone and giving him it once I get to our text chain. He slowly scrolls through it, his other hand slowly running up and down my side soothingly, his head resting atop my own.

He sighs, puts the phone aside and just wraps his arms close around me, burying his face into the top of mine.

“I’m _horrible_ ” My voice quivers. “I’m a horrible _liar_ ” He brushes a kiss to my brow. “I _need_ to know, I _need_ them to tell me why I wasn’t enough, I- I’m just so scared of the truth. I’m so _angry_ and _hurt_ that I don’t know what I’d do if I were I to know the truth, how I’d react” I lift my hand to look at those angry scratches. “Just speaking to her last night made me so _angry_ that I needed something to _hurt,_ needed to _break_ something, I haven’t felt like that in _years_ ” He carefully grasps my wrist and brings it up to his lips. “I wasn’t in control, I didn’t _want_ this, I _hate_ that I’ve done this” Carefully, he rolls up my sleeve again and just holds me. “I don’t want to be _angry_ at them anymore, I don’t want to _hurt_ because of them…” My voice fades out into muffled sobs as I bury my face in his shirt.

He seems to tug off his other glove, because soon I feel him undo my braid and run a gloveless hand through the lose strands. It helps me calm down a little.

“I should have waited to answer her... should have been with you…” He only nods. “I shouldn’t have let myself get so angry at her, I should have caught the signs and leashed myself…” But it’s been so long since the anger settled in my bones like that, in that poisonous way, I didn’t recognize the early tells.

Thinking about my family more recently always gave a mild sense of anger, or overwhelming amounts of pain which left me a crying mess until I eventually pulled myself together and pushed the thoughts back down again, this mainly because I’d leashed the rage long ago. But just thinking—pondering—it is different from actually speaking with one of the people who can give me the answers I need, but am too much of a coward to accept. Having her speak of my biological parents as _ours—_ like they didn’t leave me behind and never come back—it snapped the leash and let that rage loose, and I realized it too late.

I’m surprised when his hand lands at my cheek, bringing my head up to face his, to meet his eyes that hold nothing but understanding. His thumb runs along my cheek, brushes away some stray tears until he resorts to kissing them away, one by one, in gentle assuring brushes.

“Is… Okay…” He struggles to say, his o still closer to a u. He keeps kissing me, cleaning my face off of these hot tears. “Your anger… Is… Jusified” T seem to be a struggle too. I’m just mesmerized by his voice, his comforting kisses that each tell me it’s okay, that I’m not a complete monster for the irrational side of my anger, the consuming nature of it’s cold lethality when it doesn’t come from the right part of my heart.

I’ve seen it nearly take hold of him before too, he understands what it’s like, that ice. And maybe it _is_ justified, Diana’s comment about me not getting in touch was stupid, really stupid, and if my blood parents had the same trail of thought regarding me — that I’d find them when I wanted them — then I have every right to be pissed. _They_ abandoned _me_ , if they didn’t think I’d be pained by this—if they thought I’d be fine with that—then I have every right to be angry with them.

“I… Love… You” The words are stronger than the days before, as if he’s deliberately been practicing the phrase since. He stops kissing my tears away as he says the words, just gazing into my eyes to solidify them. “Always” I smile, a small quivering smile.

I realize where I’m sitting then, and cast a worried glance down to his legs.

“I’m not hurting you, am I?” I ask softly, my voice weak, but clearing as my mind slowly calms in his soothing presence. He shakes his head. “Really?” He nods, but sees that I’m not entirely convinced and tugs me down for a kiss, a longer, sweet and assuring kiss that has me melting against his touch, my distress washing away as a wave of pure good and right pulses through me.

He tucks me in against him once we part, does so with a kiss to my brow and a tight embrace I can’t even begin to escape from, and with my hand on his chest—feeling more so than hearing his heartbeat, though still soothed by it’s existence—I feel myself drift off into much needed slumber.


	37. Controlled

Coincidentally, as we all head up to school Tuesday morning, Sarah is on her way in as well, spotting me across the courtyard. She waves, and I return it with a smile I hope she can spot across the yard, the distance not too vast. I find it a little hard to make out her face though.

“Isn’t that the lead singer in Rays of Summer?” Mor, who walks beside me, questions. I look to her then.

“It is, her name’s Sarah” I mumble. “Head on without me, I’ll be fine” I assure her and the rest of the circle, who watch on with curiosity as I head her way. Sarah herself looks a little uneasy with their gazes as I approach and get her face in focus, but my smile seems to assure her once I reach her side.

“Ready to make some music?” She asks, ever cheery, bright and optimistic. She reminds me of Mor in some ways like that, actually, I think they’d get along. I answer with a nod. “Mr Donnaridge said we could snatch the studio downstairs all day today, if we’d like, he just wants us playing in preparation for the party since we’re done with our assignments” I nod, fine with that, and while we could just head on down immediately, we head inside to our lockers first, mine the first we cross. She patiently waits as I sort out my things, humming on some of the songs she’ll be playing, and others she just happens to have stuck in her brain today. Her foot stomps in rhythm with these songs too.

Then we head off to her locker, a little ways away, close to my Creative Writings classroom, which explains why I often pass her there, though I figured that before.

There are some Day court—and dawn court students, even winter courters—around the area, and they cast me looks while I patiently wait by Sarah’s locker, letting her sort out her things just as she gave me time to. I don’t hum as she did, and I’m a tad less cheery as she is this lovely morning, because I haven’t had coffee, and the guilt of my stupid harsh words still haunts me, but I’m doing fine. Hopefully I can find the courage to apologize eventually, because what I said to Diana wasn’t right, no matter my anger; whether it was justified or not.

I  just need time to come to terms with this, to properly leash my rage and do as she asked, see reason. Years worth of repressed anger just froze over last Sunday and got a little overwhelming, I think, became too much too fast. Next time I’ll be calmer, I hope. I’ll make an effort to be calmer. Having the conversation face to face will probably be easier, as she said, make misunderstandings easier to avoid, but that leaves me questioning whether I’m ready to see them again.

We’ll see where I am in a couple weeks, or when Azriel  is further along in his recovery and the issue surrounding him doesn’t weigh me down as terribly. It’s just been a lot recently, I think.

One good thing Azriel informed me of once I woke up yesterday before I had to go to work — still tucked in his arm by the window — Is that he’s gotten in contact with some people he trusts to possibly track down whoever was hired by Amarantha, or the twins, so that’s being worked on. It’s a small assurance, grants me some hope that we might get some answers—information—and know how to properly handle any future situations, prepare for them.

“You look a little up there” Sarah yanks me back from my trail of thought, and I look to her and smile apologetically. 

_Coffee._ I sign, and she snorts.

“Ah, you’re one of those caffeine addicts, I see” I shoot her a playful glare. She closes her locker and seems ready to get going. She also seems completely uncaring of the eyes watching us both warily. I wonder if they took my glare as threatening, I wouldn’t be surprised if they misread my lack of a mask after seeing it on for so long.

_Funny._ She grins.

“I’m hilarious, I know” I roll my eyes and get going towards the cellar studio, Sarah skipping on her steps as just a little she walks beside me. She has to have excess energy or something. She’s energetic in a nice way though, an energizing way, but it’s something I’ll probably only have the social battery to maintain for short bursts. That isn’t an insult, it’s just a fact.

People continue to cast us glances as we walk for the downstairs, but Sarah remains oblivious. I wonder if she’s so used to attention due to her status as a known school artist that she’s just learnt to suppress it. I don’t think I’ll be able to do the same, because I can practically feel every watchful gaze on my skin, like a prickle, but I might get used to it eventually. Maybe.

“I haven’t seen Azriel around a lot lately” She says calmly as we reach the vacant basement level of the school. I wonder if she intentionally waited to ask until we were alone. If so, I’m glad.

_Sick._ I sign, but she looks puzzled about the signing, so I resort to spelling it out. They’re still learning the common phrases. Filip knows the most, but Sarah has a good grip on the alphabet. She actually looks mildly worried when she figures out what I signed.

“Is it bad?” I look away then.

_It was._ I admit, again using letters to form the words for her. I figure Sarah’s look of worry is mainly for my sake rather than any personal care for Azriel.

“Is it just some sickness?” I shake my head.

_Injury_ . Her emphatic nature shows through then, as she looks genuinely concerned in general then.

“Did he break an arm or something?” I don’t answer that immediately, take a moment to decide whether I can trust her with the finer details. I want to trust her, but would Azriel want people to know?

_Something like that_ . She doesn’t pry further, just heads into the studio and has a seat on one of the bean bags. No one else is here yet, so I take the other next to her.

“Is that why you’ve been so off lately?” I pick at my nails for a moment. Then I nod. “I kinda figured… You’re more than just friends, aren’t you” I glance her way then, find nothing but kindness and encouragement in her blue eyes.

Even if I wasn’t going to confirm it—didn’t plan to—my instant blush is an immediate giveaway, and I can tell that my silence means nothing.

“As long as you’re happy, girl” I smile and look back down. “Will he be fine?” I nod. “Good, I’m glad” I glance towards the door to the studio, swearing I hear movement down the hall. I assume it’s the others arriving.

Sure enough, Jellal soon enters the room, his dark brown eyes giving us both a scan, then nods in greeting.

“Sup buddy” Sarah greets him as he steps inside and sets down a bag on one of the desks. “Have you seen the others?”

“I think I saw Filip on his way” He answers, tugging out his phone. “What’s the plan today?” 

“The usual, practicing together and improving things” He nods, then his eyes fall to me. 

“Wouldn’t you find it more fun in the music hall, you’re not playing with us on Halloween” A valid point.

“I think she happens to enjoy our company, Jellal” Filip’s voice cuts in, shooting Jellal the faintest glare as he sets down his bag onto that same desk, then casts both Sarah and I a greeting smile.

“Fair enough” Jellal grumbles, heading for the piano to practice.

“Seen Julia?” Sarah asks Filip as he grabs his guitar from the wall, giving it an idle strum, then proceeds to tune it.

“I think she’s sick, actually. She looked pretty out of it yesterday, mentioned she might be coming down with something” Sarah looks less than pleased, worried about her friend, and I feel a flicker of concern for her as well, not one to wish illness on anyone. Okay, maybe a selected few, but I try not to think about them too much.

“We _are_ approaching the season” Jellal points out by his piano, whatever he’s playing restricted to his headphones, though they only cover one ear to keep him in the loop.

“We need the drums though” Sarah comments. “Like, we can make do, sure, but it’d be nice to have them for rhythm” Filip looks to me, and I softly shake my head. He smiles.

“You don’t have to do Julia’s crazy stuff, just a simple beat, common” He motions for me to come along. I breathe a sigh of surrender and rise. 

In the name of new experiences.

It takes a while to get the hang of things, partly due to my arms’ fatigue from last Sunday's practice,  but I manage the simple rhythm after a bit of frustrated laughter and general fun. Even Jellal is seen smiling my way as I struggle.  Once we get to actually playing, I mess up now and again, but overall we have fun.  My wrist doesn’t like the repeated motions,  and I do my best to ignore that.

Once class ends and we’re bound to head to the next, we head up to the main floor together, smiles on pretty much all our faces, and since I already have what I need for my next class in my bag, I stick around with the gang, listening to their talk about class and whatnot, general gossip.

We all stop in our tracks as wicked male laughter echoes down one of the hallways, a hallway vacant and empty, as if evacuated by the surrounding students. It has my blood chilling,  but not in fear .

“ _Shit_ ” Filip breathes, his blue eyes gazing down the hall, towards the turn.

“That sounds like…” Sarah—who has gone pale—trails off. I know exactly what that sound is, have heard it first hand. The thought of someone else enduring it…

The moment a sobbing plea echoes down the hall, my legs get moving, my brain uncaring of Filip’s warning protests as my legs carry me down the hall, my hands clenched into fists, ready to do what I must to help whoever it is,  lethal cold already slipping into my blood,  but not the same kind as Sunday night, not quite .

“I didn’t think Lucien could stoop lower than Jesminda, at least she fought back” Tallan, that fucker. His brothers laugh at his comment. That laughter dies down as I round the corner, finding Elain restrained by one of the Vanserra brothers, her doe eyes glossy with tears, her uniform disheveled.

Eris isn’t with them. Their leashes aren’t taunt.

Tallan smirks as he sees me, eyes me with disgusting appreciation, and I clench my fists tighter, throw my bag to the side.

“Looks like someone else wants to play” He looks to one of his brothers. “Get her” I feel myself fall into a chilly calm, similar to the frozen rage, but with purpose and direction— _control_ —and I let it steady me as they approach.

The brother who approaches tries to grab me, but I twist his arm and kick his groin, throwing him into the lockers on our right as he folds over in pain, his body hitting the metal with a slam. It feels good, not like the frozen hatred I threw Diana’s way. Because these people deserve it.

This is the right kind of cold.

I hold Tallan’s shocked gaze, let every fraction of lethal ice show in my gaze, and I feel a flicker of satisfaction as his face pales.

“You _bitch_ ” He spits, and I note his fallen brother trying to crawl to his hands and knees, and promptly push him back down with my foot, causing a pained wheeze to escape him.

With o ne  signaling  hand motion  from Tallan , Elain is shoved down to the floor harshly, her cry heartbreaking, but not my main concern as they both come charging for me,  and I take a deep, centering breath.

I can do this.

I dance around Tallan’s first strike, manage to dodge his brother’s follow-up, though stumble on my footing, forcing me to steady myself for a moment too long before I can get in a swing of my own. This slight delay makes it predictable, and Tallan expertly dodges, sends his fist straight into my cheek once he recovers, leaving me stumbling back, head spinning for a moment as pain shoot through my face.  Not a direct hit, but painful.

They have the audacity to laugh, as if one blow would be enough to bring me down. 

They’re not ready for my explosive recovery, Tallan’s brother caught off guard as I bring a punch to his stomach, folding him over, and send my knee into his face to follow it up. He wails in pain, but I don’t have the chance to enjoy it as Tallan grabs hold of my arm and throws me away into the lockers lining the walls. I gasp as the air leaves my lungs, struggle to reclaim it for a second, able to find my senses just in time to dodge Tallan’s fist  heading for my face. A perk of being short, I’m hard to hit.

I hear  distressed voices down the hall then, but I don’t have time to  think about it , too focused on kicking Tallan’s shin, and he curses violently as my kick strikes true.

“Get off of me!” Elain shrieks, and I realize one of the brothers have gotten up, pinning Elain back against the lockers. It distracts me too long, and a punch to my gut sends me folding, but I anticipate the knee and manage to avoid getting my nose crushed. It only hits my already aching cheek instead, though skims off of it.

This time, I can’t help the cry of pain, even if the hit wasn’t as bad as it could have been. Nor can I resist it as he throws me down to the floor, the impact ripping the air from my lungs in a breathy cry, the pain of the kick making me see stars.

“You _do_ have a lovely scream” Tallan’s disgusting words are distant. “Let’s hear it again, shall we?” He purrs, pinning me down to the floor during my dazed stun, his hand gripping my left shoulder harshly.

It snaps something in me.

Slamming my skull up into his nose, I send him wailing instead, and I violently throw him off of me, get to my feet and grip the front of his uniform as I push him against the lockers with more strength than I thought my body possessed.

“ _Leave_ , or I'll break more than your nose” I spit the words in his face, said nose bleeding a stream of red down his chin, baring a slight twist. In the corner of my eye, I see Elain kick her foe between the legs, but retreats into herself as his hands let go of her, leaving her sobbing on the floor.

Not getting a clear reaction from Tallan, I decide to help him on his way, stepping back and  shoving him down the hall. He stumbles to keep on his feet.

“ _Fuck this_ ” He slurs, bringing a hand up to cover his bloody nose. His brothers seem to agree, following him down the hall with their tails between their legs.

For a moment, I just stare after them, fists clenched, an urge to go after them and make sure they never try anything like this again almost sending  me sprinting, despite my pain, but Elain’s sobs  rearrange my priorities, and lethal ice is replaced by worry as I look over my shoulder to  my friend curled  up  on the floor.

I go to her,  crouch down to her level , just about manage to gather her into a hug as people round the corner at the other end of the hall, Elain sobbing into my shirt as I hold her close,  a hand stroking her hair.

“By the Cauldron, Estelle” Filip breathes. “ _A_ _re you out of your damn mind?_ You’ll be _expelled_ ” So that’s why they stayed away, I manage to think past the throbbing in my skull. I don’t blame them, the more broken thing I once was would have done the same.

But now, I would have done the same thing I did now no matter who was being harassed. It doesn’t matter that it was Elain, had it been a stranger, I would have beaten the crap out of those creeps anyways. _No one_ should have to suffer this shit. 

I lift my gaze to them, find Sarah with a hand over her mouth, Filip looking utterly terrified— _for_ or  _of_ me, I can’t tell— but  Jellal just looks at me with this newfound perspective.

“I don’t _care_ ” I speak through my aching jaw. Filip’s eyes somehow grow wider, as does Sarah’s, but Jellal just keeps his gaze on me. “Does that make me a monster? Maybe” My eyes land on Jellal’s, hold his gaze. “But if being a monster means I can protect others, _then I’ll be a_ _damn_ _monster_ ” 

I break away form his gaze and return my focus to Elain, shakily help her stand, let her keep holding on to me as we  get to our feet . 

“I’ll only be expelled if those idiots report it to the principal, and if they do, they’ll have to explain how a thin tiny woman beat the shit out of them three on one, and they’re too prideful for that” I look back their way again. “It’s up to _you_ to decide whether I’m in the right in this or not” The three of them look at one another, and I gently pry Elain’s head out of my right shoulder, brush some of her tears away. “Did they hurt you?” She shakes her head.

“They- They were going to- I-”

“Petal?” Another voice enters the mix, and I cast my eyes their way. Lucien appears from the turn in the hall Sarah and the gang stands before, and they move aside to let him pass. His eyes widen as he sees us, his legs picking up speed our way, and Elain escapes from my arms and throws herself at him instead.

She came here to see him, didn’t she. They intercepted  her .

“What happened Petal?” She just cries, and Lucien shifts his russet eyes to me instead.

“Your brothers” He seems surprised to hear me talking, but soon brushes it aside and pales at the mention of his brothers. “I stopped them in time, just bring her someplace safe” He nods, and soon he’s got her wrapped in his arms, whispering hushed assurances and apologies as they leave. 

Leave me with my conflicted friends.

I face them, bring a hand up to my aching cheek and cringe, but school my features to something cool and calm soon enough and meet their gazes.

“I can speak, if you hadn’t noticed” Cold sarcasm, but I’m in too much pain to care, the adrenaline leaving my system. Jellal, of all people, snorts.

“I knew you were hiding something” I allow a small smile to creep up on my lips.

“I won’t go into the details, but I have my reasons” And to my surprise, he seems to accept that.

“You’re not mute” Filip breathes.

“I almost was a while back, but when I healed I was too comfortable in the silence, so it stuck around” They seem unsure. “I didn’t want to lie, I just find it hard to trust for the most part, I’m sorry” Sarah seems to snap out of it then.

“ _So what_ if you can talk or not, you… You just _whopped_ their asses” I snort.

“I did” I look down the hall they retreated down. “I’d call it payback for last year” I state, even though they wouldn't know what I'm talking about. I have no regrets, at least, not as I did mere days before when my rage surfaced. But this was different. My mind must also be too high on the pain to be nervous about this reveal.

She laughs, once,  then twice.

“You’re freaking _awesome_!” She exclaims, and my eyes snap to her. “ _Scary_ , but awesome” I smile.

“I… I hope I’m still a part of the band” I speak cautiously, and Filip’s shock seems to fully subside, a smile spreading across his face.

“Of course you are, you… What you did was brave, so much so I’m actually embarrassed with myself” He sighs, brings his hand to his brow and gives it a rub. “We should have helped you, but this school…” 

“It’s fine, I had it handled” I give my split knuckles a closer inspection, leaking red across my sun-kissed skin. “Mainly because I caught them off guard”

“Are you okay?” Jellal once again surprises me with his words, their clear care.

“Fine, I think” My head feels thick and strange, but I’m fine.

“You probably need to wash up before class” Sarah comments, and my bloody knuckles would agree.

I take a step their way, find my legs wobbly, but I hold on.

“Yeah… Mind bringing me to a bathroom?” Sarah smiles and steps forward, hooping her arm around my back and helping me on my way.

“Of course”


	38. Slow steps forward

By the time I make it to class—having limped my way there after assuring the gang that I’d be fine on my own—I’ve begun to bruise, evident by the fact that Mor looks horrified the moment she spots me from her place outside the classroom  door—waiting for the teacher— and quickly pulls me aside to one of the nearby bathrooms, surely prone to question me. I’d much rather sit down somewhere, in more pain than I’d like to admit, but I humor her.

“What the hell’s happened to you?!” She hisses as she drags me into one of the handicap toilets and locks us in. I smile meekly.

“Just a run-in with the Vanserras” Mor pales.

“Tell me everything” She demands, reaching for something in her bag.

So I do. I tell her everything from start to finish, from hearing them down the hall, to sending them retreating with their pride more bruised than my face, a face Mor carefully tends to, using some dusts of makeup to hide the worst of the bruising. I appreciate it, because a look in the mirror reveals what looks to be the star of a rather blue face. My left cheek is not having a good day.

“Is Elain okay?” I nod.

“I told Lucien to bring her someplace safe when he arrived. I suspect the garden” Mor nods.

“I’ll give Nesta and Feyre a heads up to look for her” They would want to know what’s happened to their sister. “But you… You charged in… Alone” I nod. “Cauldron, Estelle…”

“I took them by surprise, otherwise I’d be much worse off” She only nods, and I don’t take it as an insult. “Eris wasn’t with them” She meets my gaze then, shifts it away from her careful brushing to my cheekbone.

“Pity” She mutters, and a part of me agrees, but four on one would have been impossible, I’m sure of it. However, I don’t think the situation would have arisen had he been there, if his words to me weeks ago were true. “I’ll tell the others of this, we’ll make sure they don’t get any more ideas” I nod faintly. 

“Do you think they’ll report it?” I don’t think so personally, but a second opinion doesn’t hurt. Asking the question does though, my jaw aching. She shakes her head.

“They’re too prideful, you’re fine. Besides, the principal would take Elain’s word as truth rather than theirs, they adore her” As all do. My world spins a little from the pain, and I lose my balance, prompting Mor to sit me down atop the toilet, her eyes full of worry. “You’re not concussed, are you?”

“I’m not a doctor” Mor casts me a glare. “I’m fine, just a little dizzy, but baby me if it makes you feel better” I don’t have the will to push her help away anyways. She sighs.

“We need to get to class” I agree and let her drag me there without resistance, spend the hour and a half trying my very best to keep up, but find the pain distracting. Mor lets me copy her notes later, so it all works out.

At lunch, Elain is nowhere to be seen, nor is Feyre and Nesta, only Rhys, Cass and Amren present at the table when Mor and I take a seat. They all seem very aware of what I did this morning, which means Mor informed them via text in the group chat, explaining her fixation with her phone whenever she got the chance. My phone is on silent mode, so I wouldn’t know what they’ve been discussing, and I’m not inclined to check now.

“I heard our little Owl showed her claws” Amern speaks with her usual bored tone, though her silver eyes flicker with flames of what looks like respect.

“Elain is okay, Feyre and Nesta are with her, so is Lucien” Rhys informs me, and I shift my focus to him and nod. “What you did was brave” I hold his violet gaze.

“It was right” I mumble, my lips hardly moving, both for discretion and because it’s painful. Rhys only nods, that same respect clear in his eyes.

“Az’s gonna be pissed when he reads the messages in the group chat” Cass mutters, implying he hasn’t yet.

He’ll definitely beat himself up over not being there to help me, and a tad pissed about the situation in general, I’d imagine.

“We should head over after school and let him know that things are fine in person” Mor suggests, and it pains me to know I can’t join them.

“Say hi from me” I mumble, granting me a sad look from Mor as she realizes the same. She nods.

  
  


Õ

  
  


Azriel’s degree of displeasure is expertly relayed through a series of texts during my dinner break at work, asking if I’m okay, if I’m feeling concussed and need a check at the hospital, and just radiating distressed male energy without being  _completely_ verbal about his emotions as he practically begs me to not go to school tomorrow, to take it easy for a while. I don’t have that luxury, something I inform him of, but I do promise him to take it easy and do my best to rest. He begrudgingly makes do with that, ending our conversation before my break ends by telling me he’s proud of me for standing up to them, but wishes he’d been there with me. I just send him a heart, and he sends  back the same.

Despite Mor’s makeup skills, Mary notices I’m not on top of my game today, be it because of the limp or because of the bruis ing shining through the makeup. She doesn’t offer me more than worried glances,  but makes sure to take care of the more physically straining work herself, leaving me to tend to the brewing for most of the time. I don’t openly acknowledge her clear silent act of kindness, but I buy a muffin I know she loves  to get herself  to snack on during the low tides of customer s and wordlessly place it in her hands as I pass her, and she thanks me with a smile.

Ramona’s worry almost exceeds Azriel’s when she comes to pick me up, noticing the bruises the moment I get into the car, immediately questioning me for answers. I assume Azriel would have had a similar reaction though had he found me in this state uninformed, without the circle’s  and my own assurances.

I tell her what she wants to know, and she sends me to bed-rest after dinner with a cup of soothing tea and a bottle of cold glorious water, and I accept the mild grounding without resistance. 

I continue to be in mild pain all throughout the week, for various reasons, though by the time weekend arrives, it only hurts if I touch the bruises, and I avoid that as much as possible. Avoiding the sight of them is impossible though, even with my attempts to mask them with the makeup Mor lets me borrow, the blue and purple too dark against my fairer features, even with my acquired tan.

Azriel spots them instantly once I enter his room Saturday noon, he seated by the window in his wheelchair again, the only thing left of his lunch the empty plate and glass. I smile meekly his way as his eyes assess me with careful precision— dressed in his consuming hoodie and a pair of black jeans— as if he can see the bruises hidden by  said  clothing, as well as those painting my face,  shining through the makeup . 

He does not smile back. 

He wheels his way to me and brings me down into his lap, his gloved hand gently settling over my bruised cheek, a cold anger freezing over his hazel eyes.  I close my eyes with a sigh, let the smile fall and be replaced with the exhaustion I can’t seem to escape, only amplified by the pains still lingering in my body.

His hand falls to my shoulder, gently sweeps over it, and I let my head fall against his, despite the pain from the headbutt I sent into Tallan’s nose.

“Are you… Okay?” He asks softly, his words strained and not quite right yet, but better than before. I nod.

“I’m fine… Don’t worry” He slowly rolls us back towards the window, letting go of me, but my arms around his neck keep me seated. “I handled it” He huffs a breath.

“I’m proud…” I smile, even if it hurts.

“And mad” He hums.

“Not at you” He clears his throat, like it’ll help right his faltering pronunciations. “At them” I open my eyes, find his lit up by the sun shining in through the window, be it dimmer today due to the partial cloudiness outside.

“I was too” I begin softly. “Very angry… But… It wasn’t the same as then” I know he understands what I mean. “I don’t mind that rage, they deserved it’s chill” He nods.

“Used right… It’s good” Short, slow sentences seem to work fine for him at this point, and it warms my hear. But thinking of the wrong side of my rage makes guilt plague said heart as well, and Azriel expertly catches the fall in my mood as my head dips slightly, and his hand is quickly at my chin, urging it back to his level.

“I… I want to apologize to her… For what I said…” His brows flick upwards for a second, steadily so, again showcasing his steady improvement. “Will you… Hold me?” He answers by action, wrapping his arms around me and settling me comfortably in his lap, his head resting against my shoulder.

Shakily, I tug out m y phone and find my way to our chain, the sight of my harsh words feels like a punch to the gut. I push past that and start working out how to properly put things into words, something that takes a lot longer than I’d like to think about, but I soon get it down.

_I’d like to apologize for what I said. You were right, I wasn’t seeing reason, I’m sorry. I can’t explain my anger through text, it wouldn’t do it justice,_ _but I’m willing to meet someday and discuss things. Not yet, but someday. My schedule is too packed to fit in something like that right now, but text me suggestions if you have any, and we’ll see._ Hitting send, I only take a moment to look and make sure it reaches her, then lock my phone and set it aside, not inclined to know her answer yet, that can wait. I’ve said what I needed, now I’ll give my attention to Azriel.

His eyes only hold support as his head lifts from the crook of my neck, but they fall for a second to my wrist, and I know he’s curious to know how it’s doing, so I roll up  the sleeve and let him see. The lines have turned into scabs, and don't hurt anymore compared to the bruises I now don. He gives the lines a soft caress, then looks back up into my eyes, reaching that hand back to my bruised cheek, ever careful as he cups it.

The thought of me hurt has plagued him, I can tell, but he won’t scold me for what happened in that hallway, won’t act on his worry by leashing me, telling me not to do it again. He knows I’m not his to rule like that. I’m his, and he is mine, but we are still our own as well, and we can’t control each other's actions, just grant guidance and companionship through the things we face.

I kiss him without a care for the pain aching in my jaw, unable to resist the soft and sweet appeal of his lips, lips I’ve wished would kiss the pain away  for a long time now , but have been forced to live without. He accepts it without complaint, slides his hand up my back as my own slip back into his hair, silky and soft between my fingers,  smooth against my bruised knuckles.

That kiss slips away form my lips, sneaks up my bruised cheek in gentle brushes— his hand falling down to my hip— then  continue down the curve of my jaw,  linger in the hollow bellow my ear . It feels inappropriate to feel as good as I do, to be so lit up by his touch with that window granting free insight for anyone who happens to  look up at us, or pass the window at the door , but at the same time I can’t bring myself to stop him, can’t but grip his hair and keep him where he is.

Azriel seems to feel the same about the lack of privacy, as his hands let go of me and get his wheels moving, bringing us to his bed, his lips leaving my skin to urge me to sit at it’s edge, and I comply, soon seated before him, looking down at him with eyes I know don’t hide much of my feelings. His don’t either.

Planting his arms firmly at the edges of the bed, I watch in awe as he pushes himself to his feet, continuing to take leverage against the mattress, his body hunched, but a glorious sight all the same. He eases his upper body over me on shaky arms— efficiently pushing me back onto the mattress— his legs keeping to the floor as he reaches over for something, a cloth he grabs hold of and tugs at, sending the  light blue  drape rattling as it moves to mask us partly, and he eases down to lay atop me shortly after, doing so with a sigh of strain.

It hurts a little, the bruise at my stomach not quite happy, nor is the other thing, but it feels too nice to be this close to him for me to care, and to see him  _standing—_ however briefly—was phenomenal.

“Is this… Fine?” He asks, sneaking his way into the crook of my neck, his nose trailing the length of it.

“Yes…” I sigh as his lips plant a soft kiss to the base of it. “My stomach hurts, but it’s fine” His weight immediately shifts a little, tries to.

“Punch?” He asks with just a dust of cold to his tone. I nod carefully.

“And another thing” He stills then.

“Cycle?” He seems to ask with a hint of shyness to him. I hum my answer.

“I suspect that it’s aided my emotional instability lately” He hums. We haven’t really openly discussed my cycle, but Azriel has always made it a point to bring me chocolate when he realized what time of the month it was, observant as he is.

“Possibly… Pain?” I shake my head.

“Mild discomfort, nothing compared to my bruises, I’m fine. Stay” He sighs, as if not quite pleased, but not about to deny my request. “Unless you’re legs don’t like this” I mention as a hand of his slowly slips up under my hoodie, surprisingly gloveless against my bare skin beneath. I didn’t realize he took them off.

“They do” He murmurs. “They’re stretching” He finds his way to my breast and gives it a gentle squeeze, only contained by a sports-bra for comfort. I sigh, close my eyes and enjoy the moment.

His lips continue to taste my skin in pleasant nips, his hand touching me with intent yet care, and all I can deign to do is let my hands roam along his back, massaging the muscles I can only assume are pestered with aches of strain from his daily workouts.

“You look good” A lot of almost properly pronounced O’s in a row there, I note, and smile.

“Oh really, do the bruises give character or something?” He chuckles softly.

“In my hoodie” He clarifies, continuing his trail of kisses up my jaw, his thumb running over the peak of my breast, causing a shudder to rush through my body.

We should not be doing this here.

“Do I now” I muse, and he rumbles a low laugh, lets his teeth scrape along the length of my jaw. “I like wearing it” I admit, trying to distract myself from how much my body’s enjoying this. “It feels safe” I feel him smile, and soon a soft kiss is planted to my cheek.

“I’m glad” Opening my eyes, I’m met with his own just above, a lovely smile on his lips, equal parts love as there’s want in them. I reach a hand up to rest at his cheek, trace the smooth yet defined lines as my eyes are mesmerized by his.

“I miss you” I breathe softly, and that smile of his grows pained. “And not just this, I… I miss morning coffee together, miss walking through the halls at school with you, miss cuddling up on the couch and watching movies, miss talking to you about all that comes to mind… And spending hours in pleasant silence… I miss us…” He sighs, lowers his brow to mine, mindful of the bruise there.

“Me too…” That head of his buries itself into the crook of my neck instead, the strain of keeping himself up on his elbows most likely too much. He sinks lower yet, moves his hand down to my side and keeps it there as his head settles on my chest, and one of my own hands reach up into his hair, gently combing through it.

“I wish I could come more often… But work… It’s…” I sigh, and Azzy just snuggles against my chest.

“It’s okay…” But it doesn’t feel okay to be away form him as much as I am. “I’ll… Be home soon…” A glimmer of hope flickers in my chest. “Couple weeks… If I can walk better soon” His speech is clearly coming along, but I can tell that he struggles, takes longer to find the right sounds now and then. I smile, as widely as my cheek allows.

“You’re recovering that fast?” He laughs.

“I’m determined” 

“I’m not surprised… But really?” I can’t quite believe it. He nods.

“Soon, love” The way his O’s don’t quite sound right makes for an interesting accent. “I’ll be home” I haven’t heard better words in what feels like ages now. 

“Is home my apartment or your room?”

“Wherever you are…” I feel about ready to cry then, but I hold it in and just keep brushing through his soft hair, smiling like a fool, despite the pain it causes, and for a time, we just lay there in silence, comfortable and calm. “Your heart… Is nice” I realize he’s been laying there just listening to it.

“It’s calming, isn’t it” He hums. “I miss yours, miss listening to it at night… Hearing it in general…” I sigh. “It was the worst part, I think, not being allowed to hear it again after everything… My head was so full of that emptiness…” His hand gently runs up and down my side. “You’re chest area was off limits, you see”

“Not anymore” 

“Clearly” He laughs softly. “Does it hurt still?”

“A little” He admits. “But I’m fine” Now he is, at least. “Wanna see?” He asks, lifting his head to look at me. I just stare at him for a second, processing.

“I… Sure” Carefully, he pushes himself back up to stand, though leaned against the edge of the bed for extra support as his right hand reaches down to tug up his shirt.

I spot the star-like, white scar immediately, situated in his right upper ab, just bellow the faint curve of his rib cage. I can’t decide what to feel. 

I sit up, can’t help but reach out my hand to the pale patch of skin, trace the smooth new skin with a gentle finger.  It doesn’t look like much, yet this was nearly enough to take him from me. Internal bleeding almost drained the life out of him. Memories of that blood coating my hands makes my stomach turn, and I feel color drain from my face.

His hand lets go of his shirt, lets it fall in favor of taking that hand of mine, weaving his fingers together with my own. Looking up, I find a pained smile on his face, yet comfort as well.

“Will you…” He clears his throat. “Walk with me… To the cafeteria?” I blink.

“Walk?” He nods, then points his head towards the side of the bed, where a medical crutch rests.

“Practice” I look back at him then, nod, willing to do whatever he wishes if it means he recovers quicker.

He lets go of that hand of mine, reaches for the crutch  and settles most of his weight on it as I ease my way to my feet again, rearranging my clothing and hair before offering him my arm to hold on to as well, but he takes my hand instead, gloveless and bare, and begins heading for the door with slow steps.

I’m in too much awe to care about those we pass on our way down the hall, taking it slow and steady. I realize that strength isn’t Azriel’s main issue, but the ability to keep balanced, and keeping his feet from tripping on themselves. Every time the latter happens, I step in and steady him, unbothered by the open physical closeness of it. I even dare a kiss to his cheek when his eyes hold apology that has no right being there, not for this, not when it comes to me caring for him.

We get to the cafeteria, Azriel seeming relieved to find a seat, to get to rest, and I head over and buy us both a coffee each, he a pure black, and I one mixed with a hint of milk. I didn’t plan on it initially, but seeing the chocolate cake made my mouth water, so I added it as well for us to share, bringing it all to our table on a tray because I couldn’t carry it all with my hands.

I’m sure Azriel thinks I don’t notice how he lingers with his coffee to let me have most of the cake for myself, only snatching a spoon now and then, but he isn’t the only observant one in this relationship. I don’t comment though,  just accept the silent act of kindness, intending to just buy something more before we leave again to compensate  for it.

It almost feels normal—if you disregard the people around us—feels like we’re back in school, slowly getting to know one another over the steaming vapor of liquid energy. I’m sure there’s more to learn, there are many stories from my childhood that I haven’t had the heart to talk about yet, as does he. Even so, I don’t think anything in his past could make me love him any less, and discussing my more violent days—my painful sections of youth—will not deter him either, he’s shown me that this past week.

Even if I don’t need those childhood stories from him, I still wonder. Is his real mother alive? If so, would he want to see her again? I would assume so. The little bits he has mentioned to me were always spoken—or signed—with compassion to the words, care,  but also sadness . If she were still alive, I’d figure he’d try to get in touch with her. I’m not sure I want to ask about it, not yet, but I do wonder. 

He’ s Illyrian, but much like Cass and Rhys, wasn’t born in the land they once inhabited ,  a place which sits  as far north as this land allows ,  a land  once divided in seven territories until they all came together and created the capitol of Prythian,  _creatively_ called Prythain, though probably called as such to keep the naming neutral. This happened perhaps a century after the civil war, which became a movement that spread past the borders of this country  and shouldn’t really be called a civil war when spoken of, but Prythian schools mostly focus on the conflicts which most strongly affected this place, which just happens to add Hybern into the mix due to their strong resistance to the disassembly of slavery.

Hybern ended up becoming a part of Prythian when the royal family of the island fell. Only the biggest City — which took the name Hybern to honor their lost empire — holds any remnants of what the land once stood for. It shows in it’s citizens.

I’ve been a little too immersed in History class lately.

I haven’t read much about Illyria  though , and we’ve only ever lightly brushed the subject in school, but what I know is that it was — and  _is_ — a very harsh place to live, both due to the climate and the deeply ingrained traditions the people harbor,  traditions the people who still live there still follow to some extent as far as I understand. I’d be bold enough to assume some of the Illyrians of Prythian City also follow these old traditions and beliefs.

Azriel shows no sign of this ingrained cruelty  though , not beyond the icy rage that doesn’t even have to be a part of his upbringing. Rhys and Cass don’t either,  and perhaps Ramona is to thank for that, having showed the boys that there’s another way, another path.

Azriel raises an amused brow at me, and I snap back to the present with a long blink. I blush once I realize I zoned out, feel bad because this time with him is precious, but sometimes my mind just wanders and reflects when it works to ingrain information into my brain, or I find a subject that intrigues me.  Due to school — and the essay on Prythian history I have to  finish — I’m currently hooked on that subject, finding pointless correlations everywhere the deeper I dig  into it .

“I have a lot on my mind” I say in apology. “I wish I could say it was only you, but school _does_ occupy a section” He smiles.

_What subject?_ He signs, and I figure speaking around people he doesn’t know irks him. How the tables have turned.

_History, Prythian history. I need to finish an essay before Monday_ . His eyes widen.

_Do you have much left?_ I shake my head.

_Just some refinement, it’s all gotten stuck in my head though._ He smiles.

_A lot to digest._ I nod.  _Digest as much as you need._ He reaches his hand out over the table, taking mine where it rest atop the tabletop. I mirror his gentle smile.

_How’s your school going?_ His smile wavers.

_It’s going._ I grip his hand a little tighter.  _There’s a lot, but I’m catching up._

_Good. Just ask if you need any help._ He hesitates, but nods eventually.  _Been playing guitar then?_ He nods.

_You’re not hearing me yet._ I sigh.

“Pity” I breathe with a smile still lacing my lips. _The gang knows I speak now._ His brows raise. _I’m not sure if Julia does, I haven’t seen them all week because_ _of_ _our schedules, but I’ll let her know as well next week._ He smiles, a soft, supporting smile.

_Did they take it well?_ I glance to the side, recalling the moment.

_Decently, they were_ _pretty_ _shocked by the Vanserra event, so it’s hard to say._ His eyes immediately darken at the mention of said event.  _I gained Jellal’s respect though, I think._ I sign to change the subject, and that darkness quickly leaves Azzy’s eyes in favor of gentle delight.

_I’m glad_ .

_So am I._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Due to some recent events in my personal life, I find it hard to stay in the right mindset for writing, and because of this, I suspect that updates will be slow. I'll try, but writing happy lovey dovey things doesn't really come easy for me right now, so getting the tone I want in my chapters will take more time than usual.  
> However long I go without updating, know I haven't given up on this thing, I'm too excited about upcoming scenes, I just need some time.
> 
> Thank you all for reading this, you all make my day a little brighter.


	39. Imagine

Diana’s answer is a simple ‘ _It’s okay, I’ll get back to you_ ’, which really doesn’t make it feel  okay , but I  don’t let myself dwell on it. I just focus on giving Azriel as much of my time as I can  during the weekend , while still keeping up with  my schoolwork .

Sunday evening however , I manage to snatch Mor for a moment to discuss Halloween, and we end up spending an afternoon browsing through the web for something Seraphim in nature, laughing at the absurdity of some of the outfits. The generic battle outfit is the one I choose,  cheap, but decent looking , and I’m glad to have that done already, even if it’s just over a month left before the party.

Viewing all of those sites full of fae and faerie costumes got me interested in the old mythology again, and once my Prythian History essay is complete and sent in to my teacher, I get comfy in Azzy’s bed and begin searching.

There are so many different creatures I can hardly name them all. Some are near human-like, such as the high fae, while others look nothing like us _mortals_ , as the sites often refer to us as compared to these immortal beings of legend, with their souldbound _mates_ and unearthly power.

There  is a lot of  speculation  regarding whether it’s actually just a legend or not, whether these creatures and the magics they possessed actually existed at some point in human history.  The foundation of this speculation comes from the many old ruins spewed across the land, their architecture and locations baffling today’s builders, as they would be near impossible constructions, even with today’s technology.

One of these ruins lay in the north, not far from old Illyria, the latter something I look into a little extra as well.

It’s crazy people talk, to speak of magic as if something lost to time, as is  apparently  the thought,  many theorizing that  the fae died out thousands of years ago due to continuous interbreeding with humans, eventually turning the slow to reproduce immortal fae into a dying race.

In the sense of natural selection, it makes sense in a way, but still sounds like madness to me. Especially when I find my way to a site that delves deeper into the supposed physical traits left behind by these fae.

It’s all just speculation without true scientific evidence, but it still leaves me wholly intrigued as I read the articles and find that some of the supposed physical signs of fae lineage correlate with people I know. Even myself. 

Supposedly, a branch of Seraphim bore the light sensitive hair, turning it white over the course of their century long lives, but was a trait already diluting during the  supposed  era of fae, though was kept alive due to the isolated nature of the people. It sounds like madness, it’s just genetics. When a group of people live in relative solitude for a long period of time, recessive genes surface, that’s just the way life works, it doesn’t have anything to do with actual fae.

Right?

A conspiracy theory I find that strikes me as even crazier than the natural selection one is that magic wasn’t just bred out of the world, but removed on purpose. After countless wars born from the power of magic, the fae and humans came together and agreed to never let it be used for harm again, giving it back to the Cauldron; to the Mother to wield  for  herself. This turned the fae into humans, something they supposedly were before the Cauldron blessed their kind with wieldable magic.

It’s all crazy, yet I can’t stop reading about it all, can’t help but imagine what it’d be like if we  _were_ fae, if we were the beings folklore and legend tells us to be our ancestors. What would Azriel be like with Illyrian wings and killing power swirling at his fingertips,  or the mysterious power of whispering shadows  some Illyrian articles mentioned . What would I be like with feathery wings and the ability to heal and mend, yet also rip a man to shreds cell by cell,  or  with the ability to bend the light of the world to my  every  wish and see all the land has to offer without moving a limb . 

What would life be like in a world full of  courts and magic ?

  
  


Õ

  
  


_Rough yet gentle hands run down my back in soft coaxing_ _sweeps_ _, gently bringing me out of slumber with the feather-light touches. I stir, shift, nuzzle closer into the crook of their neck in gentle refusal to awaken. A low chuckle is the answer, and a faint rustle as the cocoon leaving me in darkness unbinds and lets in the light of dawn._

“ _It’s morning, Angel” A voice lined with shadows and laced with endless calm purrs in my ear._

“ _I can tell…” I grumble, less than pleased to be ripped out of bed_ _already_ _. This whole mating thing is rather counterproductive in that regard. I could stay cooped up in bed with him for days and consider it time well spent. Work would not approve, however._

_Begrudgingly, I take leverage against my hands—mindful of the limbs of his wings—and let my back arch and stretch, causing a series of pleasant pops and cracks._ _My wings spread wide thereafter, the burn running down the limbs_ _pleasant and awakening, making me ache to taste the skies sooner rather than later,_ _despite the winter chill._ _The male bellow me only observes with watchful eyes and_ _swirling_ _shadows coiling around his being, even at this early hour._

“ _Good morning” I push through the_ _pleasant sigh my stretching leaves behind, my wings tucking in against my back again as my arms keep me hovering above him. A smile plays on his often stoic face._

“ _Good morning” He mirrors, his pinned wings making an effort to stretch_ _as well_ _, despite he laying on them. “_ _Ready for today?” He asks calmly as I carefully ease off of him and onto my feet, rolling my shoulders to further work the sleep out of my system. I hear the bed creak as he sits up to get out as well._

“ _For Illyria?” I question, heading for the dresser, tugging out my_ _warmer_ _leathers to be done with it already. “Debatable” He hums his agreement._

“ _We won’t interact with the locals” He says in form of assurance while I work to dress myself._

“ _Would be a pity if we did, wouldn’t it” I mumble while I struggle to get the leathers to fit with my wings again. A pair of rough hands soon shoo away mine and help me with the binds._

“ _It would, it’d compromise our mission” He speaks with his usual composed calm. “Your illusions can’t fail” I huff._

“ _I’ve done this kind of thing for as long as you have, Azriel, I know what I’m doing” He gets the straps tied and runs an idle hand through my messy lose hair._

“ _I know, just reminding you” I glance back at him, find his bright eyes as they take_ _in_ _every curve of me, though realize he’s still in his sleeping shorts and remember that we have places to be before long. Pushing down the tug of the bond urging us to get back into bed, I step away from his reach._

“ _Get dressed, I’ll make breakfast” I feel the flutter of his mild disappointment down the bridge of moonlight between us, but shove it aside and head to sort out some sandwiches._

_I hear him leave our bedroom while I’m still sorting out those sandwiches, two of which are for this morning, and the others for our chilly adventure into the Illyrian mountains and steppes. As I’m spreading the butter over one, Azzy decides a hug is inbound, slipping his hands beneath my wings and around my waist, tugging me back against him._

_I only smile as his face dips into the crook of my neck, notably breathing me in._

“ _Hungry?” I ask softly, finishing this particular sandwich off with some cheese and ham before deeming it good enough and setting it down, reaching for the one I made specifically for him this morning. He only hums, so I decide to present him with it._

_He has a bite from over my shoulder, and I laugh gently at the silly display, feeling his own amusement like a flutter in my stomach._

“ _One of the most powerful Illyrians in history being hand fed by his mate, what a sight” He chuckles as he chews._

“ _Indeed” He begins once he swallows. “To think you’re that hand-feeding mate of his” He kisses my cheek, but I arch away, his lips crumby and weird. He only chuckles and keeps trying to harass me with them._

“ _Azzy_ stop _” My protesting tone is canceled out by my laughter, but while Azriel stops his pursuit of making a mess, he also decides to clean up after himself, licking up the damage. “You’re insufferable” I sigh, offering him another bite once he pulls back from his playful harassment that has my heart thumping with pleasant warmth._

“ _Yet you keep offering me food” I laugh as he has his second bite._

“ _I’m sort of stuck with you now, am I not?” I point out with a smile on my lips, my heart pulsing with good at the thought, a feeling I know he senses._

“ _You’re as free as you wish to be, I don’t own you” I lean back against his shoulder, letting him have another bite of his sandwich._

“ _I know” I sigh, trailing my nose up his neck, breathing in his scent of cedar and night chilled mist. “There’s no one I’d rather_ _spend infinity with_ _” His satisfaction at the words is clear. “_ Do _take your sandwich and feed yourself though, I wish to eat mine” He sighs, but uncurls an arm from around me and takes the sandwich from my hand, though doesn’t step away as he continues to devour it, still holding me close as I reach for my own._

_For a few heartbeats, we simply eat in pleasant silence, our minds occupied with what’s to come._

“ _Do we need to check in before we leave” I ask, unable to recall if Rhys specified how our departure should be handled._

“ _No, he knows we’re going, he’ll check in with me tonight” I nod and keep eating._

_It’s not long before we’re ready, leather satchels packed with all the supplies we’ll need and distributed between us together with our weaponry. Now only hours of flying or shifting s_ _tands_ _between us and work. Stepping onto our balcony, we prepare for just that._

“ _Ladies first?” I shoot him a look and roll my eyes as he grins in that way that makes my heart just melt, then sigh as I spread my wings, ruffle my feathers and let the light breeze shift through them._

_With_ _continuous_ _powerful flaps I ascend into the clear blue above, continuing to flap until an updraft allows me to simply glide, and before long I find Azriel gliding along the same wind, carrying us north east towards the distant snow-capped peaks._

_Flying again feels freeing, exhilarating, and even if we’re off on a job, I let myself play with the wind, just as it plays with my braid, let myself dip and twirl and_ fly _. Not merely soar._

“ _You’ll get tired if you keep this up” Azriel comments, remaining docile in his flight, even as I twirl around him, inviting him to play as well._

“ _It’s been a while” I state in form of excuse, and he hums._

“ _It has” Whether his cheeks are dusted from the chill of the air at this altitude or the thoughts of_ why _we haven’t been flying in a while, I can’t quite decide. Not until I give the bond a gentle stroke, feeling the simmering fire on his end of it._

“ _It’s nice to be back, but…” I trail off, settling into a soar beside him again, the tip of my wing brushing over his._

“ _Staying cooped up in bed for two weeks was nice_ _as well_ _”_ _He finishes, and m_ _y face flushes as the memories surface, memories I’ll never be able to get out of my head_ _for as long as my immortal life lasts me._

“ _Definitely…” I mumble, forcing my eyes to stay_ _on_ _the mountainous horizon, lest I might look at him and decide we can delay this trip a little longer._

_In need of some quick cooling, I tuck in my wings and dive, registering a flicker of surprise down his end as I free-fall towards the pine_ _and_ _cedar trees bellow. The wind ripping at my being clears my head, calms my being, and only when I feel Azriel grow worried do I spread my wings and let them catch a wind, ascending towards his black dot in the sky again._

“ _A warning next time would be_ _nice_ _” He states with the faintest hint of displeasure._

“ _And tell you I was getting a little worked up? You’d have pulled me down yourself” He growls faintly, a sound gobble_ _d_ _up by the wind._

“ _Working together will be a blessing and a curse” He mutters, and I smile._

“ _Now you know why Rhys and Feyre never get anything done” He snorts._

“ _True” He admits. “We’ll get things done though” He seems to state in way of convincing himself._

“ _We will” I agree. “We can practice self control, we need to” He hums. “_ _Rehearse the plan for me”_

“ _You know the plan” He states, and he’s right about that._

“ _And flying in complete silence will definitely help us ignore the bond” I retort, and he breathes a long sigh._

“ _I’ll be in the shadows, listening to whatever I can find on my own. Meanwhile you’ll search the camps for suspicious activity and help direct me to possible valuable information” I nod,_ _though there’s one thing I’m not entirely sure about_ _._

“ _Where will I be? Because I can walk the streets veiled and invisible, or just hide in a tree and watch from there”_

“ _Depends how cold you’ll get just sitting there” I sigh._

“ _Fairly chilly, I’d say” He hums._

“ _While it’s_ _bright_ _out you can roam, but once dusk comes I’d prefer you in a tree somewhere” I nod._

“ _As you wish,_ Shadowsinger _” He shoots me a look, and I meet that look, well aware of what he’s thinking._

“ _Don’t taunt me,_ Lightseer _” I smirk._

“ _Or_ what _, you’ll do me against a tree?” I watch him contemplate it, watch him glance down and assess the situation bellow._

“ _I might” He mumbles darkly, those hazel eyes returning to meet my own._ _His tone alone is enough to kindle me, but a deep breath of cool air helps smother it._

“ _Save_ _it_ _for tonight, I’ll need something to warm me up after hours sat in a tree” His wing purposefully brushes against my own then._

“ _You won’t be cold once we’re done today” His dark tone_ should _be threatening, would be to any other fae. But to me, it’s only thrilling, and I know I send that feeling freely down the bond, right through the slight cracks in our mental shields, reserved for it alone._

_Once we near the first camp, we shift down and perch ourselves in one of the grand pine trees, ever silent as we share a look and let the search begin._ _Azriel fades into shadows, meanwhile I bend myself into the light and gently land atop one of the solid houses, the light around me bending to my will, leaving me completely invisible and undetectable._

_Were it not for the snow coating the ground, I’d walk the streets and observe from there, but while the skies are clear I can simply soar, so that’s what I do. Any suspicious thing I spot I relay to Azzy, and together we travel between the camps, searching for males or females putting_ _fu_ _el_ _on the flames of dissent._

_Eventually, snowfall leaves me restricted to rooftops, and once the sun sets over the cold, brutal, yet beautiful landscape of Illyria, I’m assigned to the tree._ _What was pleasantly alright warmth wise quickly becomes toe numbing as I sit there, my vision cast out into the camps, feeding off of the light of fireplaces and candles to maintain my vision._

_A condolence is that this should be the last camp for the day,_ _should be over once Azriel returns to my tree. Where we plan to stay for the night remains a mystery_ _to me, he’s refused to say._

_Finally, I feel a tug at the bond, and I retreat my sight to my own eyes, immediately spotting the swirl of shadows in my peripheral._

“ _We’re done” He says, his voice smooth and silky as always._ _Shakily, I flex my frozen fingers, reaching them up to my face to try and blow some heat into them._

“ _About time” I breathe, rubbing them together for some friction heat. Then I flex my wings, find them stiff and cold, and as I ruffle my feathers, frost sprinkles off of them into the darkness bellow. “I’m turning into an icicle” He reaches out his hand to me,_ _and I carefully take it._

_Within moments, we’re consumed byshadow, spearing away from the seemingly sleeping camp, though the dark sky hides_ _aerial_ _patrols._ _Soon, he shifts us back and settles me in his arms, flying us somewhere through the downpour of snow. A part of me wants to fly myself, but my wings feel stiff and wrong, and Azriel’s heat slipping past the leathers is too nice to part from, so I snuggle closer instead._

“ _Where will we stay? Windhaven?” He shakes his head, droplets of molten snow falling dripping from his midnight hair._

“ _I know a place” He states calmly, as if the cold doesn’t bother him whatsoever. Born and raised here would do it, I guess. Cretea doesn’t_ _quite_ _grant the same resilience to cold. I don’t mind it though._

“ _An inn?” Again, he shakes his head. “What place then?”_

“ _You’ll see” I sigh and just curl close._

_He lands before a cave, coated in a layer of ice at the entrance, and veiled by a cloud of cold mist. As he puts me down on my feet in the snow, I watch it carefully, the way the mist has encased the nearby trees in a sheet of sparkling ice a mesmerizing sight._

“ _Come” He says, taking my hand and stepping towards that mist. I follow along, find the mist chilly at first, but once we delve deeper into the cave, it grows warm and pleasant, slowly thawing my bones. Then we make a turn, and I stop in my tracks._

_A system of steaming ponds leave the cavern veiled in near white mist, but what I see is glorious. It reminds me of the volcanic springs on Cretea._

“ _Hot-springs?”_ _I question, taking a step inside. “We’ll sleep in here?” I ask, looking up at him at my side._

“ _There’s a separate cavern that’s warded against the steam, we’ll sleep there” He steps towards a side room and brings me with him, shrugs off his satchels and sets them down once we enter the mist-free room. I do the same, even as I tremble with lingering chill._

_As much as my mind resists the thought of undressing, considering how cold I am, Azriel going ahead and doing it is a great motivator, and while he’s done well before me, I follow shortly behind him. I fold my wings around myself as I step towards that steaming pond, Azriel however, leaves his spread wide in some blatant display of male confidence. Not that he doesn’t have the right to show off, he_ is _a fine male, but he doesn’t have to_ constantly _flaunt his astonishing wingspan around me, however much I enjoy them._

_Once he’s submerged to the waistline, he lowers them, looks back at me over his shoulder, then tucks them in and turns completely, tugging gently at the bond, willing me to join him. I’m not foolish enough to resist it, not when presented with both him and a steaming pond of warmth._

_Unfolding my wings, I let him see all of me as I step into the bluish, white pleasant water, the thought of getting my wings soaked a little repelling, but outweighed by the thought of getting warm again. As I reach him, his arms wrap around me like they were meant to hold me, his shadows swirling around us, whispering words I cannot fully understand, but know are relaying nothing but his appreciation and love, emotions I feel from him without their aided help, emotions I mirror within myself._

_I let my hands trail his swirling ink on their path towards his shoulders, feel no slight amount of satisfaction as his skin shifts into goosebumps beneath my touch, wholly in love with the way his mostly cold exterior cannot help but react to my presence, in whatever form it takes._

_Settling my hands at the back of his neck, he leans down to catch my lips, and I press myself closer as warmth begins to radiate from within me._ _Reaching up, I let a finger trail the sensitive edge between membrane and limb, feeling his shudder of approval as it cascades through his entire being. So I do it again, reach up to his claw and massage the hard piece of bone._

_In retaliation, he grabs the root of one of mine, digging his thumb into just the right place. My gasping moan is mostly devoured by Azriel’s mouth, and his answer is a rumbling growl as he keeps pestering the spot that has me boiling inside._

_With one arm alone, he lifts me up against him, walks us to a partly submerged rock-shelf in the pond and sits me down atop it, his weight soon pushing me back against it, and it all just descends from there._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is purely a pleasure chapter for me, a brief change of pace to keep my creative needs satisfied. I also needed something fun to do in order to distract myself from the unnecessary amount of IRL character development that has been thrown my way recently. To name one particularly pleasant event, I almost died earlier this week, but overall I'm getting better and slowly getting back into writing again.
> 
> Thank you all for sticking with this story so far, your kind words and general existence means the world to me <3
> 
> Now, is this a dream or a glimpse into a parallel world? Hmmm.


	40. Recovering

The dream is a fogy haze once I awaken Monday morning, pleasantly—and surprisingly—rested as I shut off my alarm and get out of bed, tugging on my sweatpants to head down for breakfast. I try to remember things as I nibble on my plain, buttered toast—something which has stuck with me despite the abundance of condiments here—but nothing but faint flashes of membranous wings and snow-white feathers seem to take shape.

“You look good today” Cassian says with a mix of teasing and sincerity lining his words, and I lift my gaze to look at him as he sits down opposite of me, a hearty meal on his tray.

Cass himself looks like Cass always does—a few tangles away from feral—but the mess somehow suits him. He also remains as shirtless this morning as every morning, flaunting his tattoos and all that at every given moment.

“You look the same” I state calmly, taking another bite of my toast as he laughs.

“I see how you and Az click” He mutters with a clear hint of amusement to his voice. I let a small smile curl onto my lips, something Cass still seems completely unused to seeing again, his bushy brows raising for a second before his features return to their usual ways. “No but really, you look like you’ve slept for once” My smile lingers as I sip on my orange juice.

“I did” I admit. “I feel better” I also admit. “I’m getting there” I continue, meeting his gaze again, and his usually cocky half-grin is brotherly and bright.

“We’re all glad to see it, trust me El” I look back down, downing another bite of my toast. “What I’m _not_ happy to see is the lack of protein on your breakfast. If you’re gonna keep working out like you are, you gotta eat like it too” I look to him again then, set down my half-eaten toast.

“I eat meat for lunch and dinner” Cassian stands and heads for the kitchen as I speak.

“You can never eat too much protein” He calls back to me, and I hear the clatter of the fridge door opening.

“Actually, you can” I call back. “It’s called kidney stone, and I’ve heard it hurts” Cassian ignores me, returning and slapping down a slice of ham atop what remains of my toast.

“ _That’s_ more like it” He states, completely ignoring what I just said. I just stare at my toast with a growing grin.

“You’re an oaf” I sigh, picking up the toast and giving in, taking a bite. The salt of the ham actually proves to be a tasty combination with the butter.

“You’re both up bright and early, I see” Ramona states as she slips into the dinging room, catching both mine and Cass’ attention.

“Always, Ma” Cassian answers, stuffing his face with that mountainous sandwich of his. Ramona smiles at her son, then looks to me, and that smile almost seems to brighten, fill with this lightness.

“You look well” She says with her usual soft voice that I’d call motherly.

“I said that first” Cass mumbles behind his sandwich, like it’s some kind of competition. I ignore him.

“I feel well. Well-er” I add, looking back down at my toast. “Azriel walked with me last Saturday” A source of this lightness, I realize, the approaching inevitability of him coming home, returning to me.

“He did?” Ramona sounds surprised, having a seat at my side, as if she doesn’t need breakfast just yet. I nod past the bite of my own breakfast. “He refuses to leave his chair whenever I visit” She says softly, as if that fact pains her, but it’s clear that she understands why Azriel would be reluctant to be vulnerable around others, even his makeshift family.

Cassian decides to find something funny with that mouth full of bread and cheese and ham and whatever else he threw into the mess.

“Estelle’s got a way of making Az _stand_ in all kinds of ways” I drill my eyes into his as he laughs, Ramona throwing some words of scolding over the table, but it’s distant as my hand moves for that slice of ham—half-eaten atop my toast—and grasps it, flinging it right at his face.

It stuns him silent, the ham sticking to his brow adamantly, and as I take in the sight before me, my face slowly breaks out into a grin, until I’m snorting a laugh, placing a hand over my mouth as I snicker.

“Did you just…” He trails off, and I note Ramona losing it beside me as well. Cassian starts laughing soon too, a booming sound that seems to rattle the foundation of the house.

It goes on for a while.

“Do I even want to know?” Razie asks as she enters the kitchen, Cassian finally deciding to remove the intruding slice of ham from his face and put it on his tray. I clear my throat and force myself to calm, though a small grin lingers, straining my lingering bruises.

  
  


Õ

  
  


The incident becomes Cassian’s favorite subject all day, starting from the moment we reach homeroom and I get my morning coffee until we depart after lunch. Mor finds it equally hilarious, as she does with most silly things. Nesta says he deserved it, not unexpectedly, and Amren agrees with her. Rhys and Feyre seems equally amused, but their attention seems to mainly be on the small smile that slips onto my lips as Cassian talks about how _wet_ the slap of the ham hitting him was, which really isn’t as crucial of a detail as he’s making it out to be. Elain watches me with more wariness though, guilt maybe, and I assume it has to do with the slowly fading bruises still painting my face in color.

I’ve already assured her that what happened was not her fault, but it seems to linger still.

I head to Azriel after lunch like all Mondays, greeting the people at the reception with faint polite smiles, and cast the same to the nurses I pass on the way to his room, finding the door closed once I arrive.

Knocking a few times before entering just for good measure, I step inside, finding Azriel by the window as usual, working away at his computer, but his focus currently on me as I slip past the door, throwing down my bag beside it before clicking it shut behind me and striding his way.

“You seem cheery” He sounds glad of it, and I grace him with a smile before leaning down to peck a kiss to his lips. He answers by guiding me down into his lap, where I quickly get comfortable, snuggling my head into the crook of his neck.

Religion seems to be today’s assignment. An essay on all the major religions across the world. Fun.

“I’ve had a surprisingly good day” I admit. “It’s almost suspicious” A sad truth shaped into a joke. Azriel chuckles, as do I, burying my nose into his neck and breathing him in. His cedar and mist still sticks to him, and it’s enough to make today even better.

“Tell me” He requests softly, his chin resting atop my head while he continues to work.

“I had a strange but probably good dream” I begin, and he hums. “I can’t remember what it was about, but I think faeries, I’d been researching before I fell asleep” I pause, try to remember more, bit I still only see membranous wings and feathers, and maybe some living shadows. “Mor and I settled on a costume, the search made me curious” I clear my throat. “Anyway. I threw ham at Cass this morning” Az snorts.

“ _What?_ ” I smile at the clear warmth to his voice, not just that cool amusement he shows around the circle.

“He made a comment about us and I threw the slice of ham he insisted I’d eat right at his face” I state casually, like it’s the most normal thing in the world. “I’m well aware that it was childish, but I laughed” As if realizing that’s a feat all on it’s own, despite my muddled explanations of my time in the void—probably something the others have briefed him about as well—Azriel pulls back his hand from his computer and wraps his arm tightly around me, his head shifting to kiss my brow.

“Wish I’d seen it” He murmur against my temple. The fact he isn’t there in my everyday life brings an ache into my heart again, but I power through.

Soon enough he’ll be home.

“But faeries” He states more than asks. I hum in confirmation.

“I got curious. There are a lot of conspiracies about them, huh” He hums as well.

“Believe any?” I linger on the question for a while.

“You know, most of the things sound ridiculous, but some also make sense” I begin, and Azriel seems to wait for me to continue. “Like, the ruins up north, Velaris, we couldn't have built that with the technology we had at the time” Azriel hums. “And like, the natural selection thing does sound kind of plausible, it’s simple biology. The fae destroyed eachother with their power and were too slow to reproduce again, leaving humans prosperous”

“And are we descendants?” A big, nearly properly pronounced sentence.

“I don’t know, maybe, I don’t think it matters much, honestly” I admit. “We are who we are” He hums. “You’d make a handsome Illyrian though” He snorts softly.

“I _am_ one” I roll my eyes.

“Yeah, but wings and stuff” I glance up at him, and he down at me. “I wonder what fun things you could do with wings” My tone is far from innocent, and I know it. Azzy smirks, his eyes mildly suggestive in return. He settles for a kiss to my cheek before returning to his work though.

He has a lot to catch up on, so I don’t mind him doing just that while I’m here. I can’t really ask him _not_ to do his homework when he has a literal mountain of it on his shoulders. Simply being curled up in his lap, encased in his warmth, is more than enough to satisfy my need for his company.

However, eventually, my time with him comes to an end, and I slip out of his lap to get my things sorted for my walk to the café. Azriel stops me, grabs my hand and pulls me back, snatching me for one of those long, tender kisses that never fail to melt my heart into mushy goodness.

“Be safe” He murmurs as he releases me, though still holding my hand tightly.

“I will” I assure him. “I’ll see you soon” He nods, steals one last kiss before letting me go, and I reluctantly leave to gather my things and go.

Leaving is the worst part of visiting, I think. The steps I take away from his room always seem to slam into my heart like repeated punches, leaving it aching and bruising for the rest of the day. But even so, I wouldn’t trade the moments of normalcy and happiness with him for the world.

Mary smiles my way once I enter the café, and for the first time in what feels like weeks, I smile back at her with not just forced politeness, but sincerity. It takes her aback for a solid second as I move for the staff room to change, but by the time I reach the door, her smile has returned, doubled in brightness.

Work itself goes well, runs smoothly with me tending to the machines while Mary does the talking, and once Ramona picks me up to drive me home, I don’t feel terribly worn out, even though I should.

I don’t refuse Ramona’s offer to heat up some leftovers for me, and she and I have a pleasant time just talking at the kitchen table, mostly about Azriel and how remarkably fast he’s recovering.

She also tells me about the prom dress she’s sowing for Feyre—who’s been formally invited to the senior dance by Rhys already—and I’m completely enthralled as she describes the light blue dress almost completely made of sparkling gems, like a dress of pure starlight.

Once I retreat for the evening, I can’t stop thinking about what my own prom dress would look like, what color I would wear, what design I would don.

Unable to help myself, I tug out my phone and search, spend a couple hours just flipping through picture after picture, finding so many beautiful dresses I can only dream of ever affording, or wearing for that matter, most sleeveless. Eventually, I stop torturing myself with the sight and prepare to sleep, setting my alarm and laying back on the bed that still feels too large and empty for my taste, too cold despite the early September air still holding warmth.

  
  


Õ

  
  


Tuesday morning, Sarah snatches me away in the morning again, robbing me of coffee once more, but I don’t mind too much. I can rein my addiction.

She’s skipping along as usual, faintly, just a slight jump to her step that makes her golden hair bounce and shimmer like sunlight in the lamplight. Those around us look less cheery as we pass, casting me wary glances, something she once again pays no mind to, or chooses to ignore just as she usually ignores people’s stares.

They whisper, I know they do, they have ever since my face bruised. Some think Rhys or someone else in the circle did it, that I stepped out of line and took a beating for it. I paid their theories no mind at first, didn't care for them, but when some started whispering that _Azriel_ did this to me, I let my cold indifference sharpen into something lethal and dangerous, and those whispers quickly stopped circulating. In my presence at least.

“Julia’s not sick this week” Sarah decides to inform me while I stand leaned beside her locker while she sorts out her things. “So I’m not sure what you can do down there, really” She tugs out her portfolio of notes and lyrical sheets, then reaches in for something else. “Like Jellal said, you’ll probably enjoy yourself more in the music room” I shrug.

My eyes land on a younger Day court student, clearly a Freshman, his tanned eyes wary as he looks between me and the locker I lean against. His eyes snap to mine, and his tanned face seems to pale, like he’s staring at death itself.

The fact that my mask is efficient is something I find positive, but this student is definitely not one of the monsters I need to keep in check—need to be strong enough to protect myself from. He has no need to fear me, and I have no reason to intimidate him.

Wordlessly, breaking our brief staring contest, I step aside, waiting a step behind Sarah instead to let the Freshman into his locker, picking at my nails while I wait for her to be done. The student remains wary as he steps to his locker, but Sarah closes her own once he gets his open, freeing him from my presence as she makes way for the basement staircase with me in tow.

I swear I hear him breathe a sigh of relief.

“So, tell me” Sarah begins as we enter the currently empty studio, plopping down on the bean bags. “Why Azriel?” I cast her a look.

“What kind of question is that?” She laughs, her usual bubbly one that has no hinge.

“Well, you know, there’s gotta be a reason you choose him over every other guy on the planet” I snort, sink down deeper in my green beanbag, my eyes looking into space itself as I think about it, us.

“No one’s ever made me feel as loved as he does” I admit. “No one’s ever seen my demons and understood as he does” Sarah’s eyes grow pained. “He completes me, and I him” I shift my head to look her way. “Cheesy, I know” She snorts.

“No, not at all. It’s romantic” I sigh and look back up at the roof, but my mind is elsewhere, thinking of him, his beautiful eyes, his melodic voice, gentle hands and kind heart. “He’s still sick, I take it?” I nod.

“He’ll be home soon” I state, but my tone is distant, a hint of my longing evident.

“You miss him”

“A lot” I admit. “But he’s getting the care he needs, that’s what matters” She remains silent for some time.

“I… I’ve heard rumors…” She mumbles, and my eyes focus on the roof, my ears listening intently to her every move. “He got shot, didn’t he” My jaw locks tightly, and I suck in a deep breath, assaulted by flashes from that night, of blood and death and emptiness.

“He did” I mumble, my words silent.

“Holy fuck…” She breathes. “I wouldn’t say I know him like you do, at all, but I wouldn’t wish _that_ on anyone”

“I was there” I mumble. “When it happened” I hear Sarah’s head snap my way, feel her wide eyed gaze.

“ _You were_ _?”_ I nod, lifting my hands up before me, practically able to envision the red that stained them. His blood. I sigh and let them fall to my sides again, closing my eyes only to find the sights behind my eyelids as well.

“We were on a date, I guess” I mumble on. “Our public dates have a tendency to end poorly, now that I think about it” I realize, opening my eyes, thinking back on our dinner way back, ruined by Amarantha and Eris. I breathe a dry laugh. “We should just stick to movie nights” I conclude with a sigh, though the thought of _not_ discovering the world with Azriel is repelling on it’s own.

“Maybe…” Sarah sighs. “But he’s okay?” I nod.

“He is” I assure her. “Otherwise I probably wouldn’t be here” A terrible thought to have—to voice for that matter—but sadly the truth.

I don’t think I’d had it in me to carry on without him, and maybe that clear dependence on him is a flaw—a weakness—but the world just wouldn’t be as bright without his shadows to bring out the light.

Sarah seems at a loss as to what to say to that, but I don’t regret admitting it.

“He’s really something then, huh” She eventually breathes.

“Everything” I answer softly, and our heartfelt conversation ends there, as Julia enters the room, her golden eyes bright.

“You both look like a truck ran over you, repeatedly” Sarah laughs, sits up in her beanbag with a sigh. Julia has a strange kind of humor that only shows at very special occasions, and I cast her a small smile as I sit up as well.

“I haven't had coffee yet” I say before I leash my tongue, and Julia’s eyes widen, staring right into my own.

Sarah looks between us both for a moment, then bursts out laughing.

“Yeah, right, forgot to tell you _that’s_ a thing now” Sarah sighs, wiping a tear from her eye.

“You can talk” I sigh.

“Yes” I breathe on the exhale. “I should have said something earlier, but I had my reasons not to” Julia doesn’t look mad, just shocked, her jaw agape as she looks my way, but it soon closes, and her throat bobs.

“You have a pretty voice” She says softly, and Sarah immediately shoots to her feet.

“Right! I’ve been thinking the same!” Her blue eyes snap to me. “Do you sing?” I gulp.

“I… Sometimes?” Sarah’s eyes light up dangerously. “ _Alone_ ” I add sternly. “No one’s ever heard me and no one will for a long while” Just Azriel, maybe once he comes back home. Sarah’s disappointment is clear, but Julia just looks enthralled by my voice, which I guess is a silent compliment.

The guys soon arrive and the music-making begins, I their audience and critic after each performance, and the morning continues on much more lighthearted than the conversation with Sarah, leaving me smiling by the time I head off for my next class.

Luckily, this week I hear no commotion on my way there, though after I’ve parted ways from the gang and walked a couple corridors by myself, I find that the halls seem rather empty. Too empty.

And sure enough, there’s Eris, leaned casually against a locker, scrolling through his phone. His amber eyes shift my way, and while he looks as vile and cruel as he always does, I don’t feel remotely afraid of him.

“How come the hallway always vacates around you? Do you have a gastric issue or something?” He snorts, a strange strangled sound as he pushes off of the wall and faces me.

“No, if you stuck around Rhys and Feyre more often in school you’d find the same reaction. Prey avoid alphas much more thoroughly than they do hounds” I assume by hounds he means Azriel or Cassian. “Then there’s _Amren_ , but she’s gone now” He sounds relieved, and I realize he’s referring to her as a category of her own.

“Am I pray or a hound to you” I question calmly, approaching with careless steps, my lack of fear clear as day on my face.

“A hound, apparently. You took out three of my brothers all on your own, it almost classes you as an alpha in your own right” I snort at the terminology, but keep my features cold, unamused.

“Lost your leashes, _alpha_ ” I let my mocking be clear, but all he does is chuckle, a cruel thing.

“I was sick for the day”

“Boohoo” He snorts again, seems actually amused by my mockery.

“I see why Brannagh wanted your vocal cords cut” I don’t let the tremor her name causes show, fight it with all my might and seem generally successful, but I must have tensed enough for him to notice it, because his cruel amusement is clear in his eyes.

“What do you want” I cut to the chase, tired of this _small talk_. I might not hate him, not entirely, but he sure as hell isn’t on my list of people whose presence I want to keep.

Eris looks down at his phone, his features bored and uninterested.

“Should I expect Azriel’s wrath once he’s recovered?” I want to snort at the clear wariness he’s trying to hide with casualness. For an _alpha_ to be scared of one of the apparent _hounds._

“No, not if you stay out of the way, his quarrel would be with your brothers” Eris nods, faintly. “Have a terrible day” I state, deciding I’m done with this conversation, resuming my step to pass him.

Eris grabs my arm before I fully pass, and I tense under his grip, my fist clenching, ready to send it into his face should I need to.

“They’re not done with you” Is all he says before he lets me go, and I continue walking without another word, ignoring the unpleasant chills rushing along my spine.

Because I know he doesn’t mean his brothers. I’m not dumb enough to assume they’d just accept that humiliating defeat, he knows that, and wouldn’t waste his energy warning me of it.

No, he’s talking about Amarantha and her cronies, and whatever it means, I don’t like it.

Whatever they have planned, I hope it’s far enough in the future for Azzy to get home and finally get in touch with his _contacts_ , as they put it. I don’t care that they’re under the radar, as long as Amarantha is taken care of—the twins—I don’t care how it’s done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm back. Finally. 
> 
> I've been focusing on my actual OG novel for the past few weeks rather than this, and while I love this story, actually progressing the story that is well and truly my own has been a very uplifting thing. I'm back where I was before I lost things, and I'm ready to take a step back and let it cool for now, leaving me time for this.
> 
> If you like my writing and feel like I'm worth more of your time, I'll leave a link to my wattpad here so you can check out my own thing. https://www.wattpad.com/user/Kitzzo  
> The first couple chapters are not up to par, they're old and in need of an update, but I've promised not to be picky with it before I finish the first book, so if you do read, be patient with my outdated writing style.
> 
> Thank you for all your support and lovely comments <3


	41. Observe

I finish my art project from way back this year, given a moment to do whatever I wish during this weeks lesson because I managed to finish our current assignment early. It turns out lovelier than I expected it to. The snow capped mountains and the sparkling night sky frames the dark silhouette of the winged man nicely, the light of the faint aurora shining through the membranes of those leathery wings.

The landscape I made before spring last year was one of my best pieces at the time, but this here takes the cake, for sure. It’s nothing compared to Feyre’s painting of Elain in that field of flowers, but it’s something, it’s mine, and I’m proud of what I’ve accomplished with it.

My teacher likes it too. They ask whether I wish to bring it home with me today—as it’ll have surely dried by the end of the day—but I express through writing that I can’t transport it, much like I couldn’t transport the other painting. She assures me my painting will be stored with my other one until I can. It’s then Feyre speaks up.

“Rhys and I could drop it off at your apartment after school” I turn her way. “We’d drive you to work after as well” I smile softly, nod, and Feyre looks back down at her phone with a smile and presumably texts Rhys about the arrangement.

“Lovely, I’ll leave it in the storage for now with your other one, you two just stop by after school and pick them up, I’ll be here” We nod and get on with class, I starting up another possible pastime project for when my assignments are done early, starting a simple sketch of of a Seraphim flying against the night sky, a full moon in the background.

The end of the day arrives hours later, and Feyre and I head for the art studio to pick up the things, Feyre deciding to pick up some of her own works while she’s at it as well, leaving our arms full of securely wrapped canvases. We can’t even wave our teacher goodbye, though we try.

Rhys is waiting for us at the parking lot, grinning with his usual smug amusement as he watches us, seems inclined  _not_ to open the backseat doors for us until Feyre shoots him a particularly sharp glare that gets him moving.

With the art safely tucked into the car, we tuck ourselves in as well, and before long we’re on the road, headed for my apartment complex.

I haven’t been there in months, I realize as we pass the familiar places along the way. Mor took it upon herself to deliver my mail now and again, rendering her the only occasional visitor, but I personally haven’t stepped through those doors since it happened. I check if I even have my keys, and sigh in relief once I find them in my usual pocket.

Mor always puts them back again.

As we pull up into the parking lot—Rhys expertly finding a vacant spot—I feel nervousness slip into my gut, and I’m not entirely sure where it’s coming from.

It’s just my apartment.

We get out, pick out my paintings from Feyre’s and head for the building together, all three of us, ascending the five fleets of stairs in this mutual silence, one only broken by our steps against the stone and the eventual jingle of my keys as I work to unlock the door, my hand unusually shaky as my heart pounds in my chest.

Opening the door, I’m met with stale air and a deathly stillness, and I take a moment to breathe before I step into what almost feels like a tomb. 

It looks like one too, I find once I step in deeper, my shoes tugged off and put in their place. 

Everything looks untouched, looks just like it did the day we left. The couch is a mess, the pillows arranged for ideal cuddle potential and the neatly folded blanket  hung over the backrest  slightly askew form one of said sessions.

The kitchen has been touched though, the fridge cleaned out, and I figure Ramona did that, or Mor, maybe both, and silently thank them as I lay down my canvas on the kitchen table and continue my reminiscing, my heart heavy in my chest as I take in the space.

Feyre lays down my other painting with it, and she and Rhys remain silent observers seated by said table while I take in this space frozen in time.

My eyes land on the oven, then slide over to one of the cabinets, and my legs move for it, my hand reaching out to it, and indeed, there’s the box of cookies we baked  a couple nights before it all. I have to stand on my toes to reach it, but manage to get it down, and I’m genuinely surprised when I open the lid and find the smell of them still pretty pleasant. Stale, but not gone bad.

I pick one up, give it a sniff, still unable to find anything wrong with it, so I take a bite and test it out. Stale, definitely not fresh, but tasty, reminding me of that lovely evening with him, his teasing, his clear forwardness that once would have terrified me, but is nothing but thrilling with him  now .

Devouring the cookie, I step back and place the open jar on the table for my silent friends to divulge in should they want to while I continue my little adventure down memory lane, well aware that I’m in a slight rush to get to work, but unable to particularly care.

I don’t know if they accept my silent offer to help themselves, but I don’t care to look either as my legs carry me to the hallway, to my bedroom door—our bedroom door—and I reluctantly open it.

Azriel’s scent lingers in every section of the house, yes, but in the main area it seems to have been muffled by Mor’s perfumes, or the natural influx of air as she passes in and out. This room however is completely untouched, and while he’s fine—I know he is—the surprise of his clear scent— untouched by time as the one in his estate room has been—leaves my eyes watering and my heart twisting with painful longing.

I just want to feel safe in his arms again.

My eyes land on the shells resting on my bedside table, the large spiral shell, the mussel shell and the nacre resting within.

Breathing a sigh, wiping my eyes dry, I step back out and close the door again, letting the air remain where it is, not willing to let it fade, as foolish as it feels.

Rhys and Feyre have indeed helped themselves once I return to the kitchen, both seemingly enjoying themselves, but my eyes land on the sheathed canvases and I begin to ponder where to put them, where to hang them up, whether to wait or do it now.

“Did you make these?” Feyre asks, breaking the long silence we fell into once we reached this place. I nod.

“Az and I did” I answer, stepping forward to grab another for myself. 

“A little stale, but not bad” Rhys adds, and I cast him a soft smile.

“They’ve been here a while, feel free to blame me if you’re poisoned” Feyre laughs.

“Noted” She says, promptly grabbing herself another, and for a while, we just munch away. “Should we hang them up?” She asks eventually, and I shake my head.

“I want Azzy’s opinion first” I admit. The words solidify that this place is ours in all the ways that count, in all the ways that make it a home.

“We should drive you to work, then” Rhys states, stuffing his face before rising to his feet. I grab the lid and close the box again, keeping it in my hands as we head for the hallway again to get our shoes on.

I’ll bring it back to the manor, they need to be eaten before they actually go bad.

With one last look into the dim emptiness that is my apartment, I breathe a sigh and close the door, locking it back shut until I return again, or Mor gets my mail. It’ll probably be a while until I _do_ return, as I’m fairly sure Azzy won’t be able to climb the stairs for a while yet, even if he comes home within the next week or so. I don’t want to subject him to that strain yet, or tempt the risk of him tripping and falling.

Soon though, we’ll make it a home again, and once my contract ends with the government, Azriel and I can think about making someplace ours and ours alone. A cozy apartment in some clam neighborhood or a small house in a similar place, we’ll see. Just someplace we can be us, that’s all I want. 

We return to Rhys’ car, and I watch the passing cars as we zoom by, the silence filled by Rhys and Fere’s silent conversation, and the radio playing the latest music on low volume.

“Mor wants to go shopping tomorrow” Feyre says, and it takes me a moment to realize she’s talking to me, my head shifting to look at her. “You on?” 

“When?” She looks down at her phone again.

“Like eleven to whenever Mor deems her fall collection properly expanded” My mind immediately goes to Azriel, to the thought of not spending the day with him as usual. “You don’t have to come along” Feyre must have seen my conflict.

“No I… I’ll come along” I decide, even if it hurts. Feyre smiles. 

“Great, You can help me find a gift for Cass then” My brows perk up. “It’s his birthday next weekend, we’re going to Rita’s” I nod slowly.

“Okay, yeah, I’ll help” I note that we’ve arrived, Rhys just about to pull up in the parking pocket, and I move to get out.

“Rhys will be our loyal driver” Feyre says as I scoot over to the left door, hauling my bag along. Rhys grumbles something about being used, but Feyre places a wet kiss on his cheek that shuts him up. “We’ll see you tomorrow” She calls after me as I open the door and step out.

“Thanks for the ride, could you bring in my cookies when you get home?” I direct at Rhys as I move to close the door behind me, leaving the cookie box on the seat.

“Of course” He answers, then shoots Feyre a look. “See, _that’s_ how you express gratitude for my daily sacrifices” I close the door, but catch Feyre answer before it fully does.

“I’ll show you _gratitude_ once we get home” I turn to the café and don’t look back, able to picture the suggestive looks on their faces fine on my own.

  
  


Õ

  
  


Laid in bed that evening—exhausted from my days work, but unable to sleep—I press dial  and  turn on the  speaker, nervously anticipat ing his answer, snuggled in his hoodie and buried under the blanket.

“Hello?” He sounds worried, sleepy, his voice hoarse from long disuse or sleep.

“Hi” I answer softly, my tone clearly nervous. “Sorry if I woke you up, and I know we usually text, but I just… I wanted to hear your voice…” I hear him clear his throat on the other end.

“You alright?” I smile.

“Yeah… Just miss you” He’s silent on his end for a while.

“I miss you too” He eventually answers, his tone holding clear sadness. It makes my heart churn in my chest.

“I… I’m going to the mall with Mor and Feyre tomorrow…” I mumble, my guilt thickly lacing my words. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to visit, I’m sorry”

“Don’t be sorry, it’s fine” Even so, it feels wrong, like betrayal somehow. “You can enjoy yourself without me” His voice is encouraging, assuring. I sigh. 

“It feels wrong”

“It’s not” He insists. “Estelle, you devote almost _all_ your free time to me, I can’t demand you keep that up” I remain silent. “I’ll ask Rhys and Cass to come over or something, I’ll be fine”

“Okay” I answer meekly, my eyes stinging with tears whose cause I can’t decide. It’s just a mess of longing and exhaustion and guilt and pain, all bundled into one big disaster.

Surprise stills this mess in me as my screen shifts into a video, of him smiling softly into the camera.

“We can always do this, if you miss me too much” With the age of my phone, the quality is rather poor, but I tug my phone to me and watch that blurry rendition of him.

“I don’t know if I can return the favor” I admit, pressing the camera button to see, jumping a little as a small box with me in it appears in the corner. “Can you see me” His soft smile widens, eyes twinkle.

“Yeah…” He sighs, like the sight of me is the best thing he’s seen all day, even with my unbound hair a mess around me, and most of me drowned in his hoodie and sheets. “You’re in my bed”

“I said I was, didn’t I?” He sighs in clear exasperation. “I’ll be here once you’re dispatched, I’m not subjecting you to the stairs” His face grows positively content.

“Lovely” He purrs in his usual, smooth, bedroom voice, and it sends shivers down my spine. “I’ll prefer the apartment eventually” He admits, his voice back to it’s normal even calm.

“Yeah, me too… But I don’t think five flights of stairs are what you’ll need at first” He hums in agreement, a hand reaching up to brush the hair out of his eyes.

“Have you been back?” I nod.

“Today actually, it’s… It felt like walking back in time, to before all this” His face grows somber. “Our cookies were still there” He snorts.

“They can’t have been good” His words are lined with the faintest hint of laughter.

“Surprisingly, they’ve held up fine. But if Feyre, Rhys and I get food poisoning, I’ll take the blame” He laughs, the sound lovely, even though the speaker of my phone spikes and glitches.

“You served them?” 

“I ate the remaining once before bed” He snorts. 

“No wonder you’re awake, you’re high on sugar” I snort.

“A reason amongst many” I mumble, and the joyous look in Azriel’s eyes fades.

“I’m alive, love” I close my eyes with a sigh.

“I know. I know you are, but when I sleep I… I see it over and over, Azzy, feel the blood-” My voice cracks, and I stop, pause to just breathe, something he gently instructs me to do. “I want to feel safe in your arms again…” I mumble after a while.

“Soon” He assures me. “Very soon I’ll hold you again” I smile, wipe a stray tear from my eye and smile. “Trust me, I want to go home as much as you want me home” Due to the haste to his last words, he stumbles a little over his pronunciations, but overall, I can tell that he’s working hard to get back in shape, a testament to how badly he wants to come home in itself.

“I don’t doubt that” I mumble through my smile. “But I’ll see you Sunday then, unless I manage to slip away before six tomorrow” He nods, the act jagged and lagging, but I see it.

“I look forward to it” My smile broadens.

“So do I… But I should… I should _try_ to sleep, at least” He nods.

“Goodnight, love” Even through the phone, it makes me blush.

“Goodnight, handsome” He smirks, and said smirk becomes the last thing I see before we end the call. The sight of it lingers in my mind as I set aside my phone and close my eyes, slowly drifting off into calm oblivion.

  
  


Õ

  
  


I dress comfortably, in a pair of blue jeans and a black plain blouse, clothes that I can easily slip out of to try the mounds of clothing Mor will probably pile up on me again. My budget is still as tight as ever, but since Ramona refuses to let me pay any kind of rent for my stay, I’ve managed to save up a lot, so I technically  _could_ spend some more, weren’t my savings still wrecked by the guitar.

I don’t regret the purchase at all, not one bit.

Even with my tight budget, I figure I might be able to find some nice sweater for the coming cold, but it can’t be  _too_ expensive. If I can’t find anything, at least I’ve spent some time with Mor and Feyre. And our kind driver Rhys, of course.

We pull up to pick up Mor, and her house is almost as luxurious as Rhys’, though perhaps a tad smaller. Not that it matters, it’s still grander than any house I’ll probably ever live in, will ever  _want_ to live in.

The woman in question slips into the car, looking as primped and fancy as ever, and  _very_ excited. She practically beams as she smiles my way.

“I’m gonna make you try _so_ many clothes” The way she points her finger my way makes it almost sound like a threat.

“Mind the prices, please” I sigh, and Mor immediately tones down.

“Yeah, of course, same as always” I nod. “Perfect” Mor straps herself in as Rhys drives off.

He, Feyre and Mor chat about whatever as we head for the mall, and while I listen to their talk about Cass’s birthday night out,  I don’t really feel like adding anything to the conversation, just cataloging the information about the evening in my brain so I don’t forget.

Whether Azriel will be able to come or not is brought up, and I remind myself to ask him if soon means next weekend, and if not,  ask if  he could just go out for an evening to be there. Getting him out of the hospital,  even  just for a night will probably be good for him, but the thought of what could happen to him if we went out again  makes me hesitate a little. I brush away that fearful thought and decide to ask once I see him, to not let what happened affect me more than it has to, not beyond the caution, even if a part of me wants to hide Azzy away where no one can hurt him again.

I can’t let that fear consume me.  If I do, they win. I refuse to let that happen.

That doesn’t stop me from looking over my shoulder every now and then as we walk through the crowded halls of the mall in search for out desired shops, and even in those shops I cannot stop searching for danger.

Only when I hide away in the changing room with a pile of clothes to my name do I feel a little at ease, and I savor the time of calm as I try the clothes Mor and Feyre both helped pick out for me.

The latter of them asks to see me wear the clothes she picked, so I tell her to peak her head inside once I get to them. Mor is too busy trying her own clothes at the minute.

“Oh, I like that” She states, taking in the white blouse I’m wearing. “White looks really good on you”

“Really?” She nods.

“It brings out the different shades in your hair. When you wear black, the sharp contrast makes it hard to pick up on” I look in the mirror and try to see if she’s right. “It makes your eyes pop too” I see where she’s coming from, and I do like wearing white. It’s just such a tedious thing to keep clean.

“I think I’ll buy this one” I decide, knowing the price is reasonable.

“Great, I’ll let you change back” She slips out again, and I make sure to lock the door behind her before I get out of the blouse and move on to the next garment.

I end up buying it and a thick, white wool sweater with sparkly silver threads woven into it, like glittering snow in the winter. It leaves my bank account crying, but I feel satisfied with my purchase s .

Even though I’m done with my shopping, I help Feyre look for something Cassian would want, and while I’m no expert, I manage to help her pick out a nice pair of new boxing gloves for him while we’re in the sports shop, and I pay a fraction to be in on the gift. Cassian’s current gloves are a well placed hit away from crumbling at the seams, so the gift feels fitting, and Feyre agrees.

We have lunch together, discuss everything between classes and school gossip, and while my eyes continue to scan the crowd around us, I smile, I laugh. I have fun.

The hours tick by, spent in all kinds of shops, I assigned the job of carrying the bags because I just don’t feel like torturing myself with the fact that I can’t buy the pretty things I see around me. It leaves me waiting outside of shops for the most part, sat on a bench with the bags at my side while I flip through my phone to pass time, keeping an eye on Diana, looking at pretty photos on Instagram in general, all while keeping an eye on my surroundings.

I notice someone watching me then, a seemingly casual looking guy stood outside one of the clothing shops. It instantly turns on my alarms, even if he—for all I know—could be harmlessly checking me out.

I keep my calm mask of bored indifference on tightly and make sure to only watch the guy from the corner of my eye, to never let my gaze flick directly on him. I do so efficiently by shifting in my seat so that my phone is in his general direction, leaving him constantly in my line of sight, even though my eyes seem focused on my phone.

He looks like he’s in his late twenties, a few years older than Az, and looks like an ordinary dude with ripped black jeans and a plain white white t-shirt and black fall jacket, but something about his attention unnerves me.

Maybe it’s that he’s a stranger, maybe I’m needlessly paranoid, but either way, I don’t like it.  Discreetly, making sure I have no flash on, I take a picture of the general crowd, making sure he’s in it, though not the center .

He  doesn’t notice, continues to  play it cool, fiddles with his phone between glances, giving off the vibe that he’s just waiting like I am, but I’m not buying it, a part of me that refuses to trust doesn’t buy it.

I couldn’t be more relieved once Feyre and Mor return, grabbing their share of the bags as we stand to continue our adventure, but before I commit to leaving, I look back at that guy, only to find him gone.

My brain whirls to make up theories, that maybe the one he was waiting for arrived and he left while I was busy gathering my bags, or maybe he got tired of waiting and headed into the store to look for his friend. My brain buys none of them, and I continue to frequently glance over my shoulder as the hours tick by into the later spectrum.

By the time we’re done for the day, the clock is way too late to even consider going to the hospital, as visitation will end the moment I arrive, and while that hurts, I decide to hold on to the fact that I’ll see him tomorrow.

  
  


Õ

  
  


Stepping into his room after a warning knock, I find him sat in bed, guitar laid down flat in his lap, posture tense as he looks my way. I smile, well aware of what he’d been doing before I got here.

“Am I interrupting? I could come back later, grab us some snacks form the cafeteria” He shakes his head and moves to put it back in it’s case, laid out at the foot of his sickbed.

“No, come here, tell me about yesterday” I smile wider and step inside, closing the door behind me.

“I missed you, but I had fun” I admit, helping him put the now closed case down in its usual spot. 

Azriel motions for me to hop up, so I do, his arms immediately tugging me close, though one reaches out to pull the drape out to shield us a little from prying eyes. It makes tangling my leg around his and slipping my head down to his chest a lot more comfortable.

“What did you buy?” His chest rumbles as he speaks.

“A couple shirts” I state calmly, reaching my hand out to trace the tattoos hiding beneath his black t-shirt. “I mostly worked as a carrier of bags, you see” He chuckles softly.

“I know the feeling, Mor used me similarly” I laugh with him.

“It beat torturing me with all the pretty things I can’t afford” I sigh, and Azriel’s hand reaches up to comb through my hair, but is met by a braid and hesitates, settling that hand on my shoulder instead, his thumb stroking it softly.

It feels a little strange to have it be touched again, though I don’t recoil. I’ve been sleeping on that side a lot lately, and while I still despise touching it and applying the cream—which I did last night—I don’t think much about it anymore, not as long as I don’t actively see it.

“But I had fun, even if I’m too broke to really go on shopping sprees” Memories of that _guy_ sours my calm contentment though. “There was this guy though…” I mumble, which freezes Azriel’s thumb in place.

“What guy” His voice is cold, attentive.

“Just this guy who kept watching me while I waited outside a store for Feyre and Mor to be done browsing. He could have had completely innocent motives, but it made me uncomfortable” Azriel’s grip around me grows a little tighter, and I sink right into his embrace, relishing in the closeness and instant sense of safety it brings.

“Did you recognize him from school” I shake my head. “What did he look like” His tone is cold and calculating, handling my possibly foolish paranoia with complete seriousness. Another reason I love him, no bother of mine is ever glossed over.

“Normal. Ripped jeans and plain shirt. I didn’t look too hard, couldn’t have him catching me staring back, it would have sent the wrong signal” Azzy hums. “I took a picture though” I reach into my pocket and tug out my phone, pressing my way to my gallery and the picture in question. “There” I say, pointing him out in the crowd, and Azriel uncurls an arm from around me and takes my phone from my hand.

“That guy?” He asks, pointing his thumb at the right guy. I nod. Azriel remains silent fort a while then. “I’ve seen him before” I frown.

“You have?” He hands back my phone and reaches for his own.

“Yeah, I don’t know where” He hesitates in the search box on google, as if searching for the answer in his mind.

“An old student from school?” I question, and Azriel starts typing.

“Maybe” He somehow finds a page full of old yearbook photos from both the local highschool and College and is soon looking through the ones from a few years back.

I watch with gentle curiosity as Azriel carefully yet swiftly scans every face from every court, until finally, his thumb stops scrolling, settling on a young man from the  Autumn Court. I lift my own photo to compare, and even though he looks much younger in the school yearbook, it’s clearly him.

“Simon Hale” Azzy breathes, then switch over to Instagram to search up the name there, swiftly finding his account.

If you ask me, everything looks normal and ordinary, but Azzy keeps digging, finding his twitter and Reddit and  _everything_ that this guy keeps public. Weren’t it so fascinating to watch his mind working, I’d probably find it a little unnerving how easily someone can find out everything about you in just a few well placed searches, something my brief classes about social media has taught me, but I haven’t really experienced first hand.

Now I have.

“Under any other circumstance, this would be creepy, Azzy” He lets out a dry laugh.

“Considering everything, not being thorough is reckless” He plants a kiss to my brow. “Especially since it’s about your safety” I smile and reach up to give his collarbone a kiss, the closest bit of skin in range.

“Still” I mumble, settling down to listen to his heart again.

“This is my job. Finding things out” I cast a curious look up at him, and he sets aside his phone for now. “For Rowan, I do background checks” I push myself up on my elbows above him.

“Really?” He nods. “So you stalk his employees” He snorts.

“Basically” I laugh then too. “I make sure they fit his image” I nod slowly, figuring it makes sense.

“You’re good at it” I admit, reaching my hand up to brush some hair out of his face, settling that hand at his cheek once I’m satisfied.

“It’s not hard when you know what to look for” I nod slowly, not entirely convinced, though I guess I have some experience with this _stalking_ , considering I stalk Diana regularly, for safety purposes. “And when you have… _C_ _ontacts_ that make things easier” He sounds wary when it comes to disclosing this to me.

“I’ve heard about these _contacts_ , have you gotten in touch with them regarding things?” He shakes his head.

“This WiFi isn’t safe” Even _I_ understand why that would be an issue. “You’re not… Disturbed” I let my thumb brush along his cheek.

“Why would I be? If it helps end this, I don’t care what measures we take” He smiles softly. “But should I be worried, or was he just checking me out?” That smile falters with a hint of what I’d say is jealousy.

“The latter, I think, but I’ll look into it” That hint of jealousy is clearly there, and adorable.

Grinning ear to ear, I lean down and catch his lips with my own. It seems to catch him off guard for a second, but soon his arms wrap tightly around me and tug me flush against his chest, his head angling to deepen the kiss, and I accept it all.

My hand slips up into his hair, silky and smooth between my fingers, and one of his own slips down my back, settling at the small of it while his other cups the back of my head and keeps me right where I am. It all has me melting atop him, fire igniting in my blood, and I wish we weren’t in the hospital, wish it badly.

His tongue slips out to play, brushes along my lower lip in gentle request before I part to let him through, and the taste of him has me grasping for the reins, dangerously close to just losing myself to his touch.

I’m panting once we part, my head leaned against his own as he catches his breath along with me, and his beep breaths slowly turn into soft, blissful chuckles. I join him, my heart fluttering with warmth and joy and a bright goodness I haven’t felt in a while, not to this extent, only faint glimmers now and then.

Laying myself down, I snuggle into the crook of his neck, letting his arms engulf me in the safety and warmth I continue to crave, no matter how much of it he gives, and for a time, I forget about all my worries—forget about the lingering remnants of emptiness in my soul—and just exist in his fulfilling company.

  
  


Õ

  
  


I come around to asking Azriel about next weekend eventually, and as it stands, he has no idea if he’ll be able to come or not.  I don’t dwell on the subject—bound to just get sad—so I let us both enjoy the calm again, which ends up turning into a long nap for us both, I curled up in his arms, laid partly atop him as we sleep the hours away.

Only when a nurse comes with his dinner do we wake up, and I feel like a burning inferno of awkwardness as I slip out of bed to let her serve his meal, avoiding eye contact at all cost. Azriel’s face looks fairly red as well—masked by his darker skin tone—but the nurse doesn’t seem to care about what she walked in on, which wasn’t really anything at all, but still.

He motions for me to come back once she leaves, and I slip into bed with him again, letting his arm drape over my shoulders and my head rest against his chest as he eats this steaming stew. It reminds me that I’ve only eaten lunch today, but I’m still far from hungry, just a little peckish.

It doesn't outweigh my sleepiness, and while I  _should_ spend my time with Azriel wisely—make the most of each moment we’re given—I can’t help but drift in and out of sleep in the comfort of his arms.

He doesn’t mind, if anything, he seems equally inclined to just sleep along with me, and I figure he’s getting little himself without me there to hold. That little fact is both sweet and painful to think about, fuel to my longing for normalcy, to be free of this distance.

Ramona finds us like this—bordering sleep—once she comes to pick me up, and her voice startles us both awake.

“Were it legal, I’d let you stay right where you are, Estelle, but I sadly don’t make the rules” I sit up straight, rub at my eyes to get them working again before I settle them on Ramona, stood in the doorway.

“What time is it?” I ask, my voice rough from long disuse, and I try to clear it softly. Azriel sits up with me then, a gloved hand of his massaging his brow.

“Late” Is Ramona’s only answer, and I find that she’s right once I retrieve my phone to have a look.

Quarter to six.

I cast my eyes to Azriel, sat beside me, his eyes as groggy as my own, and I flash him a soft smile, one he returns. Before I move to get out of bed, I give his cheek a peck, and he looks inclined to ask for more than that, but I slip away before he gets the chance, the thought of Ramona being there to see it a little unnerving to me. Too much so. He understands, I can tell.

_See you tomorrow_ . I sign, settling on that rather than speaking.

_Hold on for me._ He signs back.  _Things will be normal again soon._ I smile.

_I love you._ I sign, reaching for my jacket and tugging it on.

_I love you_ . He mirrors, and even if it hurts, I take the steps to the door Ramona waits before.

The look in Ramona’s eyes isn’t quite pity, but there’s clear pain in them as she bids Azriel goodbye and leaves with me. She doesn’t say anything though, and a part of me is thankful for that. It’s easier to handle the pain of leaving in silence. Somehow, talking naturally opens the floodgates.

I stay quiet during dinner, silently observe while Cass, Rhys and Razie entertain themselves with some family board game in the living room, not quite feeling up for joining, but enjoying the show. Once darkness falls and the house grows quiet, I’m not tired, my lengthy nap biting me in the ass by rendering me wide awake when I should be out cold and resting for school tomorrow, or enduring nightmares over and over. I suppose it’s a blessing in that regard, but I still need  _some_ sleep tonight.

I try, but I can't have gotten more than a couple hours of sleep in before the alarm rings, marking the start of a new,  _lovely_ day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love writing this story. I'm glad I let it rest for a while, but I'm also glad to be back. A part of me dreads the day I write the ending.


	42. Present

I make it through another week,  find myself waking Saturday morning with a night at Rita’s ahead of me, and an Azriel who’s specifically said he can’t have me over, something about his physical therapy, and I can’t but accept it.  So, without anything planned until tonight, I dress casually for a day inside, doing whatever happens to come to mind.

Drawing catches my interest after breakfast, and I take a seat in Azzy’s computer chair, finding all of my tattoo sketches stacked in a neat pile, the ones I like the most placed separately for when the time to actually decide comes. I think I know which I’ll pick though.

I rediscover my pencil and eraser, along with a ruler and what remains of his blank paper, and then I get stuck, no clue what to actually draw.

All those dresses I’ve been looking at come to mind, and in a spur of creativity, I start sketching out my own designs, taking elements from the ones I liked and adding nice ways to hide my shoulder. It passes the time nicely.

After a pleasant lunch and dinner with the Noctis family, the time to prepare for tonight’s shenanigans arrives, and I spend a good while looking through the clothes I have here in search for a fitting attire. Something casual but nice, fit for a night out drinking. A pair of jeans and a shirt of some kind feels like a safe option, and I settle on my light blue jeans and my new white blouse. 

When it comes to my hair, I let my braid waves loose and call it a night. If Mor gets her way I’ll be dancing, so any fancy style I could do will get messed up either way.

Dressed and ready—everything I’ll need safely stuffed in my pockets—I head downstairs to wait for the hour to strike. Ramona will be driving us once we’re all set to go,  and considering the time, I tug on my jacket and shoes to prepare for our approaching departure.

While I wait for everyone else, my phone blips.

_Don’t get too drunk tonight._ Azriel’s texts rests on my lock-screen. I unlock my phone to answer.

_Don’t worry, I can’t afford getting drunk._ I smile at the sad truth.

_But we have very persuasive friends who like to buy rounds for everyone._ _Ju_ _st be safe._ I smile a little brighter.

_I will be, don’t worry._ I add a heart to the message, and I get a heart back from him moments later.

Moments later, Rhys and Cass descend the stairs, joining me in the hallway, and Ramona is soon there too, tugging on her outerwear all while telling us all to be responsible tonight. An answer which feels rehearsed slips out of the boys’ mouths, at which Ramona laughs, telling us to call if anything happens. Then we slip out into the dimming world.

Cass gets the honor of sitting in the front seat—being the birthday boy and all—leaving me and Rhys in the back. I spend the drive watching the world pass by, until my eyes settle on the red neon sign reading Rita’s and realize we’ve arrived.

“Thanks for the ride, mom” Rhys says before slipping out of the car.

“Thanks ma” Is Cassian’s words of departure, and I conjure my own phrase as I slip out of the car.

“Thank you, Ramona” She smiles at us all, tells us to be safe one last time before Cass and I close our doors and let her head off.

“The other’s are already inside, common” Rhys takes the lead, and after a quick legitimization of our age, we’re let into the club, the music booming loud and the dance floor full of drunken dancers of varying degrees of intoxication.

The amount of people immediately pokes at my distaste of crowds, but it’s manageable enough, and once we find the others—tucked away in our usual booth, drinks already in place for us—the thought of all these people sheds away in favor of watching Cass open his gifts and sipping on my citrus drink.

He mostly gets gym stuff, like a new cool water bottle made to retain cold, and a pair of new cordless earphones he can wear while he does his thing. The gift Feyre and I got him fits right into the mix, and once he gets to it — practically tearing through the wrapping — I can’t help but feel a little nervous.

He gets the box open through sheer brute force, and soon he’s holding the red and black gloves up for all to see. His face says enough about what he thinks of it, spread wide in a delighted grin.

“Neat! I needed this!” He exclaims, tugging them on and giving them a test by slamming his fists together. “I love ‘em” He looks between me and Feyre, and the both of us accept the praise.

A few presents later, Rhys treats us all to another round of drinks, and while I don’t like having them spend money on me, straight out refusing feels like a real mood sourer, so I leash that instinct.

Unsurprisingly, Mor drags us all to the dance floor, and with the alcohol starting to take effect, I let myself loose, sticking close to Mor, Feyre and Elain as we move to the beat, something that comes with ease even if my dancing skill is lacking.

Mor forces a third drink into my hands before we get back to the booth, were Nesta has taken it upon herself to guard our stuff and Cass’ gifts, content observing our fun with a drink in hand rather than dancing. The others get back soon too—Cass draping an arm around Nesta that is only partially accepted—though Rhys remains missing, something Feyre questions, but gets no helpful answer.

“Lost him in the crowd” Is all Cass provides.

“Whatever, he’ll come around. Probably getting himself another drink” Mor shrugs the whole thing off, and most of us agree and fall into conversation about everything and nothing, drunken laughter clogging my ears as I scan the crowd for any sign of Rhys.

_Something’s wrong_ . My own voice continues to whisper in my head.  _Something’s happened_ . My mind is convinced Rhys is hurt somewhere, that they’ve done something to him as well, that they’re not finished with me—with the circle — but that paranoia is soon drowned out as my eyes fall on a pair making their way through the crowd.

Even with the world a little blurry and weird — the distance quite vast — I know who the man at Rhys’ side is without a single flicker of doubt. 

It sends me out of my seat in a heartbeat, an act followed by surprised yelps and questioning words, but I ignore them all as I spear through the crowd. I only catch Rhys’ grin for a second before I fling myself at Azriel with a force that threatens to topple him over, but a well placed crutch keeps him upright as his other arm coils tightly around me.

I can hardly believe it, even as I lean back in his grip and settle my hands at his cheeks, tilting his head down to my level. His face grows blurry as tears overwhelm my vision, but I still see his smile before he leans down and muffles my soft sobs with his lips.

I cling to him like he’ll fade away at any moment, and mourn the loss of his lips the moment he parts from me.

“You taste like alcohol” His voice is smooth, even, _his_. He’s here, he’s real. I laugh, laugh and sob all at the same time. It’s probably ‘cause the alcohol’s messing with my brain but I’m just so damn happy to see him I can’t handle it.

I bury my face into his black shirt and hold him tight, unable to form words, to function as I should. He buries his face into the top of my head in answer, letting out a long sigh.

“I hate to ruin the moment, but we’re in the way here” Rhys, informs us, and while I want to damn him for existing right now—for speaking reason—I do agree. 

Reluctantly, I slip away to stand at his side, Az’s free arm still coiled around my waist as we walk through the crowd, back towards our booth. I can’t say whether the Circle’s spotted us before or just now, but Cassian shoots out of his seat and causes quite the ruckus as he plows his way past everyone else  sat on the rounded couch on his way towards us.  He doesn’t care for their complaints, and before long he’s got his brother in a half hug that sort of  squishes me but is nothing I care about.

“The hell you doing here?” He asks, stepping back from his brother, hands on his shoulders.

“Tasting freedom” That catches my attention, but I don’t have time to question it before Cassian starts leading us towards the table again, and I grow too focused on keeping my walk straight to talk.

I’m forced out of his grip as the others have their go at hugs and greetings, and it leaves me at the sideline with Rhys.

“Did you know about this?” I ask him, casting him an expectant look, though unable to fully take my eyes off Azriel for long, scared to lose him, scared he’ll vanish and be nothing but a mirage.

“I did” Rhys admits. “He arranged it with mom and dad though, I just knew to get him” I nod slowly.

“Does this mean he… Is he dispatched?” I don’t dare believe it to be so.

“I don’t know, you gotta ask him” Azzy’s eyes trail to me as they all drag him to the booth, and I hardly cast Rhys another glance before I’m walking after, slipping into the booth with him, helping him keep track of his crutch as we settle in with everyone again, the drinking and talking resuming.

I don’t bother to join, not as Azriel’s arm curls around my waist and draws me in, leaving my head resting against his shoulder. I just listen, smile at their outlandish tales from times long since past while I sip on my drink.

I must have dozed off for a bit, because when I open my eyes the booth is empty, my drink safely placed on the table. Azriel’s still with me, and I figure the other’s went out to dance some more once my mind catches up with me.

Groggily, I sit back straight, the world doing a little spin for a solid few seconds, and I reach a hand up to rub at my brow.

“What did I tell you?” Azriel’s voice spears through the loud music and buzz of people. I turn my head to look at him.

“I’m fine” He grins, and the sight captivates me for a second, leaves me stuck in a daze as I admire his face.

He needs a shave, his stubble more than a stubble, but even so, it looks good on him, and his hair would benefit from a cut, but he still looks lovely just as he is. His eyes look especially gorgeous in the low light of the room, catches those dim rays and almost glow golden in the dark.

“You’re not real” He chuckles.

“I am”

“Prove it” I demand, one hand gripping his shoulder as I lean against his side while the other reaches across his chest, gripping his shirt. “Prove to me that you’re here” 

His hand comes up to cup my cheek, warm and perfect. His thumb sweeps along my cheek,  gloved and gentle.  Then his lips are on mine and I’m just gone, whisked away into a world where he’s the only thing real at all, and the room around us fades away.

Somehow, I end up in his lap, my legs straddling either side of him as I cling to this narrowed reality. His hands roam along my back as mine claw at his shirt, and every point of contact — skin or not — feels electrical.

Even as I part for air, I’m not ready to let go, my face burying into his shoulder as my hands loop around his back, holding him tight.

“Is this real enough for you?” His almost flawless words whisper in my ear. I shudder as shivers rush down my spine.

“Yes…” I breathe, snuggling against him, even if it messes up my hair. “Will you… Are you free?” He hums, his head nuzzling against the side of my own.

“I’m coming home with you tonight” The thought leaves me torn between crying and laughing again, and a strange mix is the result. 

He holds me close as I let it out, this overwhelming relief and delight at the thought of going to sleep with his arms around me again, not just the empty vastness of his bed and the faint comfort of his hoodie.

  
  


Õ

  
  


We stay at Rita’s well into the night, and while Azriel refuses to dance, he somehow convinces me to do so myself at some point before we decide we’ve had enough drinks and fun for a night, and we call our rides back home.

I’m not really following it all — mainly because I’m tired as hell and a little more than tipsy — but I get into a car, cramped between Rhys and Az, the latter working as my pillow as we head on home, my brain struggling to stay in the conscious world.

Even so, once we get out of the car, I manage to get indoors, my brain so focused on getting Azriel inside that I forget to be tired for a while,  but that clarifying focus strips away once we’ve bid everyone goodnight, gotten up the stairs and closed ourselves inside his room.

Somewhere along the way, I swear I use the restroom, but whether I brush my teeth and all that is a mystery I don’t care to solve once Azriel sits down on his bed, dragging me down with him, his hands instantly working my clothes off, and mine move to do the same.

I don’t think it’s graceful in any way, but our clothes peal away bit by bit until the heat of his skin soaks freely into my own,  and my lips are unrestricted by fabric as I kiss along the swirls of his tattoos.

He lays down, lays me down with him, settles me comfortably atop him, his chest my pillow as my legs  t angle with his, my arms reaching under the pillows to coil around his neck.

It’s everything I’ve longed for. Everything I’ve craved for Cauldron knows how long. The safety of his arms as darkness comes to claim me.

And tonight, once it does, it’s gentle and kind, like tendrils of shadow stringing me along into the land of slumber while his heart lulls me to sleep.


End file.
